


First Time in My Life I'm Not Afraid

by toradhiontach



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Autistic Evan Hansen, Bullying, Evan is a confused Boy who is repressing a Lot, Gay Jared Kleinman, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Internalized Homophobia, Jewish Alana Beck, Jewish Evan Hansen, Lesbian Alana Beck, M/M, Mutual Pining, Partying, Post-Canon, Repression, Sexual Repression, Slight pining, Somewhat, Sort Of, Underage Drinking, kind of, questioning Evan Hansen, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-01 13:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18335138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toradhiontach/pseuds/toradhiontach
Summary: Evan Hansen thought it was a given that he didn't like parties. He also thought it was a given that he was straight. The legendary Loving House Halloween Rager proved that both of those assumptions weren't entirely true.





	First Time in My Life I'm Not Afraid

**Author's Note:**

> CW for some slurs, and Evan's constant suicide ideation, and some vomiting 
> 
> So this is a semi alternate universe where the end of the story is different. Basically Evan does get to go to college as a freshman because well he'd probably get a sweet financial aid package and a work study. I just want him Jared and Alana to be friends at college because the potential for story is limitless
> 
> Also, their college is very loosely based on Cornell

Evan looked in the mirror. This was an absolutely terrible idea. He wasn’t sure whether the costume was a terrible idea (which, it was), or if going to a Halloween party was just terrible in its conception. Both were terrible ideas actually, but the costume in particular was a uniquely terrible idea.

His phone buzzed.

Evan looked over at his desk in mild surprise, then took two quick strides to pick it up. It took a few seconds of sifting through his textbooks and loose papers lying all over the place to find it.

He had gotten a facebook message from Alana. Honestly who else could it have been?

_*Ready to go?*_

Evan furrowed his brows as he typed back. He had always been a clumsy typer, and ever since Jared had turned autocorrect off on his phone, he couldn’t figure out how to change it back.

_*am i ever ready for social interactino lol?*_

It was the vaguest possible answer Evan could have given, that didn’t clarify whether or not he actually wanted to go and was giving Alana the okay to come get him. That was the exact kind of thing that got on Alana’s nerves. Evan saw the dots come and go over and over again, each time like seeing a shark’s fin rise out of the ocean, before she simply sent back the thumbs up emoji.

Okay, that was that. Alana would be on her way to pick him up. Because it’s not like he said no was it? In Evanese, not saying anything was the equivalent to saying yes.

It wouldn’t take Alana more than 10 minutes to cross the campus. In the meantime, Evan decided to text Jared to let him in on their plans.

_*are yuo comign?*_

It didn’t take long for Jared to respond.

_*Almost ready_ 😘 _*_

Evan’s stomach swooped at the kissy face emoji. It must have been a nerves thing though. Jared was probably pregaming and was being just, really friendly or something. And Evan could never get enough friendship. That was the good stuff. Yeah that had to be the reason, because it wasn’t like Jared constantly sent Evan faux flirty messages…

_*Alanas coming over, meet us outside somewhere lol*_

_*You don’t own me Evan Hansen, I’m not one of your little toys_ 😩 _jay kay I’ll come when I feel like it Ella mayo*_

Evan squinted at his phone. He knew Jared was quoting a meme or something but Evan couldn’t say what it was if he had a gun to his head. He really wished someone would shoot him in the head before he had to go out in public all night.

He started to type something, hopefully something as funny and weird as the kind of things Jared was into. But Evan immediately deleted it before trying again. Eventually he just copied Alana’s technique, and simply sent the thumbs up emoji.

Now all he had to do was wait. Every second that passed was a war inside his mind on whether to just rip off what he was wearing and hide under his covers and watch the same Netflix documentaries for the 80th time or not. But Evan knew he couldn’t just back out like that. That’s not how friends treated each other. The thought of having friends still felt tingly and unreal to him. 

So, Evan figured that if he was going to force himself to go out tonight, self deprecating into the mirror some more was as good a way as any to pass the time before Alana showed up.

“Ugh, I look so ridiculous,” Evan sighed, pulling his lower eyelids down dramatically.

“You’re telling me,” his roommate, Dominic scoffed from somewhere behind him.

Evan jumped. “Oh. Dominic. I didn’t- I didn’t know you were here?”

“I’ve been here the whole time, dumbass,” Dominic said, not looking up from his phone. “Hey what the fuck are you supposed to be going as anyway?” he gestured at all of Evan with his phone, still not bothering to actually look at him.

Evan picked at his costume nervously. He was wearing shiny black boots, meticulously steamed and pressed black pants, and the unmistakable gold jersey that signified Captain James T Kirk. But he was also wearing a tacky party city store vest over the iconic jersey and a truly stupid looking mushroom hat on his head.

He couldn’t decide between Kirk and Toad, so he… went with both at once.

“I’m um- well you see-”

“Oh I don’t actually care dude. Are you going to leave soon? My girlfriend is coming over, so…” Dominic droned, thumbs flying furiously on his phone. He pronounced dude kind of like “did”; he was one of those guys.

“Yeah I’m, um, I’m actually leaving now,” Evan mumbled. He glanced at his phone again before pocketing it and hurrying toward the door.

“So, like- bye, I guess,” Evan said meekly as the door swung shut behind him. Dominic didn’t bother responding. Asshole.

 _“This week, why don’t you try… ignoring those instincts you have, the instincts to hide or retreat? If your gut is really telling you to run from something, maybe you should try to do it anyway.”_ that’s what Dr. Weisz had said to him. It was essentially that bullshit “do something every day that scares you” thing that people like to put on their macbooks as decals or something.

Well everything scared Evan, and he still did things! It’s not like it got easier as time went on. He was a “whole ass” adult now, as Jared would say. When was it supposed to not feel like his life was flashing before his eyes whenever he had to anything more stressful than muttering “Thanks, you too,” at the Walmart greeters when he went shopping?

Evan fisted his hands in his shirt, hoping no one saw him. Of course people would see him, that was the whole point of a costume party: to be seen. He wished he had taken an Ativan, but there was going to be alcohol at this party, and if the choice was either be a teetotal or die… well Evan took the third route. He was already pushing it with the Lexapro, but it wasn’t dangerous with alcohol, it could just, oh, increase suicidal thoughts, so that was cool.

But Evan hadn’t taken an Ativan in 3 days, just for good measure, for the sole purpose of not seeing that disappointed but accepting look on Jared’s face when he had to spend his first ever college party completely sober.

“Holy shit, dude. Is that Hansen?” someone on Evan’s floor stage whispered to his buddies.

“Who?”

Evan felt the blood drain from his face. It must have been a funny (pathetic) sight, him standing there like a deer in the headlights because someone said his name.

One of the guys smirked at him. Evan’s stomach twisted into knots. He suppressed his fluttering heartbeat and his stupid dumb horrible brain screaming inside his skull “run away, you’re in danger!”

“Sick costume bro!” the guy said easily, and then he and his friends reached the end of the hall and stampeded down the stairs.

Okay, so, Evan couldn’t be entirely sure if they were making fun of him or complimenting him. He was never really good at telling the difference. But he always erred on the side of everyone hating him and wanting him to die, just to be safe.

“Hurry up please,” Evan singsonged under his breath, bouncing on the soles of his feet. Every second felt like walking through a minefield. At any moment more people could see him standing there like a sad loser waiting for his friend to escort him to a party he didn’t want to go to. The longer he was exposed, the greater the chance.

Evan’s hands _burned_ to rip the hat and vest off and just pretend he was going as Captain Kirk. But he didn’t want to disappoint Jared. Plus, he wasn’t sure he could really pull off Kirk to begin with? Evan barely knew anything about Star Trek. What if someone asked him to, like, talk about it? One upside to his hybrid costume was that if someone asked about it he could nervously ramble about why he was wearing it and the other person would probably lose interest in the conversation altogether. Because who could stand talking to Evan for more than 30 seconds?

See, Alana had voted on Star Trek. “I’ll go as Uhura, of course,” she had said. Although before she could go on a tangent about how Uhura was her only choice and she wished Star Trek had more black female characters, while acknowledging its important role in making modern science fiction something glamorous _and_ accessible for minorities… Jared had piped up.

“No! I went as Spock last year, and only because it’s so expected that no one expected it,” he had said. “I vote Mario, it’s the perfect balance between actually trying and also blatantly saying we’re just there to get so drunk we spew.”

Alana had balked “I am not chugging warm beer like some sorority chick and then throwing up where everyone will be taking Instagram photos Jared! Prospective employers are going to be _combing_ through the social media posts from our college years! Don’t think that because we’re having fun we can’t be thinking about the long term consequences of our actions!”

“That was the most Alana… paragraph, I’ve ever heard in my life,” Jared had shaken his head like he was ruefully impressed. “What do you think Halloween parties are _for_?”

“Social networking!” Alana had cried, as if it was the only obvious answer.

“Tell her she’s crazy, Evan,” Jared commanded.

“Tell Jared he’s insufferable, _Evan_!” Alana shot back.

Evan, of course, couldn’t bring himself to pick a side. All he could do was watch in rapt horror as he buckled under the collective weight of Alana and Jared’s intense emotions. Evan knew enough about astrology from his mom’s obsession that this was what he deserved for being friends with a Scorpio and a Virgo.

“Evan?!” they had both said at once. Oh, he had been tumbling around in the prison of his own thoughts again. That was how Evan spent like 76% of his waking hours.

“Um… well… you both make compelling points?” and on that perfectly unsatisfactory note, Jared and Alana had “agreed to disagree”, and stormed off, leaving Evan standing in the middle of the quad with a confused (slightly hurt) look on his face.

For two weeks Jared and Alana had been sending him passive aggressive messages telling him they would “appreciate it” if he picked their idea and not the other.

In hindsight, Evan thought it was almost funny. Funny in the way that made him want to lie down in front of traffic, but still funny. What did they honestly expect would happen? For two personalities as strong as Jared’s and Alana’s, having Evan’s weak willed self be the glue between them was just sadly humorous on a cosmic scale. This was man’s hubris being struck down by the gods. Evan was just as soft and fragile as Icarus’ wax wings, it seemed.

“Hey Evan!”

And Alana made her entrance. Evan saw her hair first. It was done in a truly impressive beehive. As she climbed the stairs more and more of her costume was revealed. She was wearing big platform boots and the long sleeved version of Uhura’s uniform. So Alana was going for the 60s show and not the reboot. Evan couldn’t remember which version she liked more, but he did remember her saying that Zoe Saldana was hot. Evan noticed that Alana was the same height as him in those giant boots, and that by the time he could notice that, she was standing close enough to get a good look at Evan’s costume.

Her eyes bugged out, and her face struggled halfway between a smile and a dumbfounded gape. Her mouth twitched, like she was suppressing a laugh.

“Hey,” Evan said lamely.

“You- you couldn’t pick between my idea or Jared’s,” she said. It wasn’t a question. She nodded to herself. “So you picked both.”

“Classic Evan,” they both said at the same time. Evan kicked his foot onto the dirty carpet. How long had that stain been in front of his door?

An awkward pause proliferated. Evan pulled down on the hem of the Toad vest and cleared his throat.

“So are you ready to go?” Alana asked, crossing her arms.

“Well- what… what about Jared?” Evan asked.

“What about him?”

“Well, I just- oh. So you don’t want to go to the party with him?”

To answer him, Alana just started walking back toward the stairwell and Evan’s feet automatically followed. Evan was always a slave to whatever caused the least conflict, even if it led to even more conflict down the road. He cringed remembering the Connor Project. To be fair he thought about the Murphy’s at least once a day, a lot of incoherent muttering and trying not to scream and seriously considering drinking bleach often ensued.

Alana reached the bottom of the stairs and shouldered her way through the door outside. Evan stumbled after her. He didn’t know how she walked so gracefully in those absurd boots, but Alana never did anything if she couldn’t do it perfectly.

It was chilly out. The sun had already set, and a brisk autumn wind was being funneled into the quad by the layout of the campus. Groups of students were running around being loud and drunk already. Evan eyed them like a gazelle might eye a pride of lions.

“We should’ve brought jackets,” he complained as the warmth from his dorm building dissipated.

“Yeah, I can’t believe I forgot to plan for that contingency,” Alana agreed, nevertheless smiling like the chill didn’t faze her at all.

“So, um-” Evan muttered. “Jared?”

“Hmm?”

“Are we not meeting Jared, or?”

“He can meet us there if he wants,” Alana said curtly. “He’s probably already at the wildest party doing keg stands.”

And that was that.

It was a funny image, Evan had to admit. Jared, in all his 5’8” glory, being held by his ankles by muscular snapback clad frat bros as he drank and drank and drank. Evan felt sick just thinking about that much cheap beer sloshing around in his stomach.

Just one or two drinks, Evan reminded himself. He could not fuck with his medication.

A stronger gust of wind picked up, blowing dead leaves across the sidewalk. Some of them paired off into duets and did little dances before flittering out of view. It spoke to Evan’s soul, he truly loved the Fall, but it was also getting nippier by the minute. That part of Fall wasn’t the greatest, especially because his costume was exactly zero percent wind resistant.

“We should walk faster,” he suggested.

“I’m walking as fast as I can in these gogo boots,” Alana huffed, increasing her pace nonetheless. Evan almost tripped over himself keeping up.

Evan wasn’t exactly sure where they were going, but he was sure Alana would steer them toward a more low key party. It would probably consist of her fellow political science majors sipping on craft brews and discussing the upcoming midterm elections.

The thought of upperclassmen asking him his _opinions_ honestly scared the shit out of him, but it couldn’t be much worse than a rowdy bender. He really wished he had taken that Ativan after all. At the very least he’d have a valid excuse to refuse alcohol.

Evan and Alana made it about halfway across the quad when a figure emerged from the twilight.

“Hey bitches!” the all too familiar voice of Jared called out. Well that was a coincidence.

Evan breathed an internal sigh of relief. His nerves were frayed enough, and worrying about meeting or not meeting Jared, and what he would think if they didn’t meet up with him… Evan didn’t have enough RAM in his brain to process that.

“How are you not cold!?” Alana squawked as Jared came closer and was fully visible. “And what’s your costume supposed to be?!”

And there was Jared, posing confidently in front of them.

“I’m sexy Luigi,” he said with the trademarked wry twist of his mouth. He held out his arms and spun around, letting Alana and Evan, truly, soak it all in.

Jared was wearing white boots, white gloves, the appropriate green hat, a fake moustache, suspenders (with two big gold buttons probably glued on), which were hooked to… incredibly tight speedos. And that was his costume: sexy Luigi.

Evan’s eyes involuntarily raked over Jared’s admittedly pretty toned body. Jared had turned his paunch belly into a bona fide, well, 4 pack over the summer. He had even start to form those little V’s that some guys had. There was still a little bit of roundness at the bottom of Jared’s stomach, but he looked good. Evan realized he was staring too long for what was considered socially acceptable, and he definitely had to look away when he saw Jared’s obnoxious bulge. A blush crept up his neck. Jared had to be padding… there was no way he was _that_ big. That _would_ be something Jared would do, right?

Thinking about it only made Evan’s face heat up more. Why was he thinking about Jared’s dick anyway? The more he thought about thinking about Jared’s dick the more he thought about Jared’s dick! His stupid brain created a feedback loop of being embarrassed and being embarrassed about being embarrassed.

“And no I’m not padding,” Jared smirked, as if he could read Evan’s mind. Evan was certainly thinking loud enough that Jared could probably, in fact, read his mind. The secondhand embarrassment coursed through Evan’s veins like so much antifreeze. He would literally rather put red hot pokers in his eyes than walk around basically naked. How Jared could do it so blasé Evan didn’t know. But then again, Jared was much more attractive than Evan, so granted.

Evan had to give Jared credit, the guy owned every single one of his absolutely crazy ideas.

Alana’s mouth opened and closed a few times. She had that Alana look on her face. The look she had given Evan only more horrified than pitying. Instead of saying anything to Jared she turned to Evan.

“See, I knew he would do something annoying like this. This is why you should’ve chosen Star Trek like _I_ suggested in the first place.”

“Excuse me, I’m a visionary!” Jared spat back.

“It is, um, a little much,” Evan added quietly. He quickly shifted his gaze down and scuffed his boot on the sidewalk.

“It’s funny! It’s got that shitpost mouthfeel! And dare I say it’s _actually_ sexy?” Jared protested. “Plus look at what you’re wearing! You’re just copying my aesthetic but not going all the way with it. Admit it, Evan!”

Evan rubbed his arm, wilting under Jared’s gaze.

“I mean, _God_ only you could look so fucking adorable with a party city Toad hat on, but don’t pretend that you’re better than me; either of you,” Jared said, trying to look angry, but he couldn’t help his usual smirk from showing up.

“I know you’re both just jealous that I’m the funny and creative one of our little gang of misfits.”

Evan didn’t dignify that last comment with a response. Alana could rarely be bothered to dignify anything Jared ever said.

A truly rare moment occurred between the three friends. No one was saying anything. Evan could even hear something shattering in the distance, followed by a loud and slurred “oh _shit_!”

Finally, Jared rolled his eyes so dramatically Evan could feel his own eye muscles (did people have eye muscles?) hurt in sympathy.

“Fine, I guess some people just don’t have taste. Nothing to be done for these poor souls. I have _nothing_ to prove to you. Now can we go? I’m pretending I’m not cold right now,” Jared whined.

“Right. Um, go where?” Evan mumbled.

“To- to a party bro,” Jared said with wildly raised eyebrows.

Evan felt a little blood rush to his face.

“What Evan _means_ is _which_ party we should go to. I personally am very close acquaintances with a girl who knows someone who is on a first name basis with the editor of the school newspaper. She says the journalism students are throwing a very tasteful mixer,” Alana said haughtily. Alana’s version of a smirk was fully smiling like normal, just with her head slightly tilted backward and her eyebrows slightly quirked.

“Oh wow, that sounds like a _ton_ of fun,” Jared spewed sarcastically. By that point he was hugging himself to keep warm.

“Well what’s your idea of fun?” Alana snapped, also hugging herself tightly.

“I _thought_ we were just going to go to the frat houses, like normal people!” Jared snapped back.

“I do _not_ want- want _meatheads_ hitting on me tonight, or any night,” Alana growled.

“Well I _definitely_ do,” Jared countered, “and they’ll have all that good stuff girl, you know hard liquor and shit! I mean, I might even get laid tonight!”

“What a pleasant thought,” Alana scoffed.

Evan, as usual, was no help as a tiebreaker. Because Evan didn’t really want to go to any party, but he had already gotten dressed and left his room and walked a quarter of a mile, so.

Jared was now visibly shivering, his abs even spasming every so often. Alana was shifting from foot to foot, trying to keep warm. Evan tried to hide his hands in the sleeves of his jersey, but they weren’t really long enough to do it.

“So we’re just going to stand here?!” Jared shouted.

“Alright, fine, we’ll just walk and see what we find,” Alana chewed on her lip.

So the three of them started to amble toward the general direction of Greek Row.

On the way there a group of drunken girls overtook them. They looked like seniors, but it was almost fully dark out and it was hard to see the sidewalk much less people. As Evan Alana and Jared passed under streetlamps Evan could get glimpses of the women. They were definitely older, at the very least upperclassmen. Most of the probable seniors were wearing costumes like: sexy nurse, sexy vampire, or sexy kitten. One of the sexy kittens then started cooing over Jared.

“Oh, cool costume. Like a buff sexy Mario right? That’s clever. You’re cute,” the girl purred. Fitting that she was dressed as a cat. She had one hand on Jared’s shoulder, her other hand brushed against Jared’s abs.

“Gay,” was all Jared said back, barely sparing her a glance. “Let me refer you to my colleague, Evan. He’s the tragically heterosexual one.”

He pointed a thumb in Evan’s direction. Evan immediately wanted a random sinkhole to open up directly underneath him. It wasn’t enough that Evan wasn’t as hot as Jared, and the thought of all these women rejecting him turned his blood to pallid sludge, although that was true. But it was also that… Evan didn’t necessarily take offense to being called straight. That’s what he was after all. So… why did it feel so weird, so accusatory?

Evan mouth twisted, his hands clenching and unclenching forcefully.

“Oh, hello _Evan_ ,” the sexy cat said. She and her friends quickened their pace and cut across the sidewalk to crowd around him. Great.

Evan tried to keep up with Alana who was practically doing a military march, but he was being bogged down by the sorority girls. Alana kept her head high and didn’t once look behind her. Jared, to his credit, seemed to be trying to slow down for Evan’s sake, but he was getting farther ahead too. It seemed like they had both succeeded in throwing the slowest and weakest member of the herd to the pack of wolves.

“You’re a real cutie,” one of the seniors giggled.

“Look at him, he’s blushing.”

“Oh my God I want to eat him up.”

“I bet he knows how to handle a pussy.”

“What’s your costume supposed to be, sweetheart,” one of the sorority girls asked him. Her hand was very brazenly trying to feel his arms. Not that she’d find much. Evan’s ears turned red hot. He felt a half dozen pairs of eyes raking him over. He felt queasy.

The senior’s face twisted in disappointment for half a second when she finished feeling his “biceps”, and Evan officially decided lying down on the ground and being consumed by earthworms would be the only salvageable conclusion to the evening.

“Yeah what’s your costume, babe?” one of her friends pressed. “Here, let’s see.”

She fished out her phone from her purse and turned on the flashlight. Evan squinted in the sudden light. It didn’t help that she seemed to be deliberately aiming the beam at his eyes.

“Is that… what… what’s on your _head_?!”

Evan held up his hand to block out the flashlight.

“Oh, um… well, uh, the three of us, well it’s actually a funny story, see Jared- that’s Jared up there, you- you, uh met him… but you could probably tell, because, um, he’s the only other boy here… yeah. Um, so anyway Jared wanted to be Mario, I mean like- characters from Nintendo, but Alana- uh, her, over there… wanted- wanted to be, um Star Trek characters, and I, well… so I’m not good at- good at deciding things, so I kind of, um, well I basically went for like, both? Like at the same time? Captain Kirk and Toad. Both at once. So.”

A few seconds hung suspended in time. Then one of the girls laughed. It wasn’t a cute flirtatious laugh. It was a cruel laugh. Evan might not be good at discerning a lot of social cues, but how mean spirited a laugh was… Evan was very good at gauging that.

“That’s honestly like, so retarded,” one of them snickered.

Oh. Well there was that too. A much more direct way of gauging things.

Being eaten by worms sounded _really_ fucking ideal at that moment. Every instinct in his body was screaming “Turn around, go back to your room, and maybe cry for 6 hours.” But Evan was being pushed along in a growing tide of students converging on Greek Row. Where had they all come from?

Plus, Evan was trying to ignore his instincts, if not for his sake, then for Jared and Alana’s sakes. But _goddamn_ was it hard to ignore his instincts when he felt like he was going to throw up, when a group of attractive women had just laughed in his face and he still had to walk near them in what was easily an entry in his top 10 of awkward silences.

Evan could feel the bass thumping in his bones as the masses of students formed into something approximating a line. It stretched hundreds of feet down the sidewalk, a horde of students waiting to get into the frat house.

That street was well lit by lamps. The soft orange glow lit Evan up for everyone to see. If he was being honest, he was just a little boy, clasping his hands together, biting his lip, his eyes misting up, shuffling forward like a lost puppy, in his _stupid_ fucking costume. Evan looked absolutely pathetic and he knew that everyone else knew. He should have just gone as a ghost. That way he could put a sheet over his head and no one would have to look at him. Actually he shouldn’t have left his room at all.

“Yo, check out this queer’s costume! Peak autism, dude,” a male voice cut through the general murmur of the students and the throbbing electronic music seeping outside. He also pronounced dude like “did”; maybe he knew Dominic.

Evan glanced to his left and saw a tall guy with broad shoulders and a sharp, handsome jawline pointing at him and laughing, but it was in that obvious way that he was faking laughter. This guy wasn’t amused or even shocked, he wanted to let everyone around him know that he thought he was better than Evan. And by every metric Evan could think of, he _was_ better than Evan. Except maybe being a nice person, but Evan knew he wasn’t exactly a nice person either. So that was a wash.

“Whoa bro you’re right, that’s the most autistic thing I’ve ever seen. What’s he going as, someone who fell off the short bus?” one of his bros laughed. This jock was shorter, stouter, with a badly framed haircut, but still probably one of the most popular students on campus. The two frat boys gave each other one of those high fives that turned into a bro hug.

Evan’s blood was roaring in his ears. All he had to do was ignore them, and he might get out of the situation with just emotional scars instead of physical ones.

“You should’ve heard him stuttering like he was having a stroke about him and his gay little friends and their retarded coordinated costume idea,” the same sorority girl piped up. Apparently she was friends with the jocks- not a great shock. Evan realized all these cool popular people were converging around him, cordoning him off, tightening like a noose.

Where were Jared and Alana!? Evan tried not to visibly shake but with so many mean spirited comments being flung at him, deliberately being the center of so much negative attention… he was starting to wilt.

“Ugh, I _can’t_ believe I hit on him, look at him, he’s so _ugly_ , and scrawny.”

“He looks like a wet labradoodle; doesn’t he have that energy?”

“You’re so right.”

“Does he even go to this school? He looks like a mentally challenged middle schooler.”

“Hey kid, did you get lost trick or treating?”

“Aw, he’s going to cry.”

Evan bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from doing just that. Hopefully it worked. He knew that if he stood up for himself, it would only be a pathetic mush of barely coherent words. He would just get laughed at more. Or it might get him hit in the face. He also knew better than to run away. The group of frat guys and their sorority friends would block his escape, and anyway the thought of so many students watching a freshman wearing a fucking mushroom hat sprinting away into the night sobbing would get him talked about for _years_.

So, in the face of danger, instead of fight or flight, Evan just stood there and took the abuse. Classic Evan.

No one within earshot seemed to care that upperclassmen were picking on him either though, so Classic Everyone Else too.

But then, as the line shuffled forward and their little blob of people reached the porch of the frat house, the tall guy reached out and tried to swipe the Toad hat off Evan’s head. Evan instinctively ducked, which was probably a dumb decision. That was when he turned and locked eyes with the guy, shooting him a steely glare (even though his eyes were shiny with unshed tears, so it couldn’t have been that steely). That was also a dumb decision.

Some kind of fire burned inside Evan. His was clenching his fists so hard his fingers turned white. He shocked himself when he spoke.

“You’re an, um, an asshole,” Evan licked his lips nervously. “At least I’m trying. I know I look- I get that I look stupid. But look- look at you. I mean, you’re just wearing a- what? A letterman jacket? That’s your- you think that’s a costume? I think we both look stupid for different- for opposite reasons. So.”

The dumbest decision of all. It was a pretty weak telling off, but Evan didn’t feel a fist slamming into his stomach or his face, so maybe?

“Oh, dude! He got you good,” the guy’s friend laughed like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. Evan realized a second too late that he was being sarcastic. Evan’s ears physically hurt from all the blood surging through them.

“Um, who even cares? I want to get white girl wasted!” the sorority cat girl whined. Evan glanced back at her. She was in fact white. But she and her friends were passing around a flask and some water bottles that probably didn’t contain water. Evan also noticed the jock’s no less intimidating friend was loosely dangling a beer bottle from his fingers.

Oh, of course. They were all already drunk. That didn’t make what they were doing okay, but… well, that would either make the situation better or worse. They might get irrationally angry, or they might laugh it off and move on. They were almost inside the party. The door was barely two feet away. Hopefully they would all disperse.

“Just leave me alone,” Evan mumbled. He limply gestured at the door and let the group of friends jostle him around as they entered the party. All but the tall jock. Evan braced himself for being hit, or shoved, or something.

“Whatever bro,” the prick conceded. Finally, he tore his gaze away from Evan and walked inside. Not before Evan heard him say “fucking faggot,” under his breath.

Evan didn’t know what to do after that. He certainly didn’t want to go to this party, or any party for that matter. He should probably just turn around and go home, get some good mileage out of his cry pillow after all. It’s what he should’ve done all along.

“You’re holding up the line, asshole!”

Right. Who has time to let some loser sulk when he’s standing in the way of their stupid party?

Evan kept his head down as he fought against the current of students funneling into the frat house. Now that he thought about it, they were probably violating a lot of safety standards. There was no way the building could safely have so many people in it. It had to be a fire hazard. Evan briefly imagined the building burning down with all these stupid vicious assholes in it. He wasn’t proud to say that imagining that… felt good. More evidence he was a terrible person.

Evan had barely made his way back toward the poorly lit avenue when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He flinched, his mind automatically supplying the image of those jocks changing their minds and coming to kick his ass.

But when he turned around, he saw a girl. She was short, half of her head was shaved, the other half was dyed… rainbow? She had big gauges in her ears and a septum piercing to boot. Evan looked up and down her body to glance over her prominent tattoos and her costume, before remembering that looking up and down a woman’s body could be interpreted as something sexual. Evan flushed red.

“Are you okay,” was all she said.

Evan opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no words came out.

“It’s just that… you look so sad, and lonely. No offense. I thought that was you being pushed around by those fucking legacies. They’re total cunts to anyone who isn’t rich and privileged like them,” she continued.

“Heh,” Evan sighed. “I think- well… I guess college isn’t different, um, from high school.”

The girl’s mouth quirked up in a smirk. She stuck out her hand.

“I’m Khloe, with a K. Yeah, like the Kardashian,” she rolled her eyes but there was still a small smile on her face. She waggled her hand insistently at him.

Evan accepted it, hoping his own hand wasn’t sweaty. But it was too chilly out for that, thank _God_. He hoped that Khloe didn’t take offense when he rubbed his hand on his pants immediately after. Force of habit.

“I’m Evan… um… with a v?” he mumbled.

“Hah, cute,” she smirked again.

Evan was glad he could probably blame his lingering blush on the temperature.

“So uh what’s your costume?” Evan blurted out in a single syllable.

“Oh this?” Khloe looked down at herself. She was wearing booty shorts made out of torn khakis, a tight sports bra, fingerless gloves, giant boots, and… a bow and arrow. The arrows were probably fake, but still. She also had a giant backpack slung over her other shoulder.

“I’m Lara Croft. But like, _gay_ Lara Croft,” Khloe’s eyes crinkled up from the force of her smile.

“Oh…” that explained the rainbow hair Evan guessed. It was an interesting idea. He knew people sometimes wore genderbent versions of characters as costumes, so why not sexuality… bent?

Then he realized Khloe was staring at him expectantly. Oh. He had to explain _that_ again.

“Um, I’m Captain Kirk, but also Toad… um, there was- well we- my friends and I, I mean… um well we, um, well _I_ couldn’t… um…”

“Two great tastes that taste great together?” Khloe arched her eyebrow as Evan’s rambling trailed off into nothing. Evan nodded.

“Yeah,” he supplied lamely.

“I love it. It’s like, almost Dadaist. My friends are going to like you a lot,” she said with an easy grin.

She turned around, hoisting her backpack more securely on her shoulder, and gestured for Evan to follow.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“Um… where are we going?” Evan asked. Of course he had already started following her the second she started walking.

“Just a little get together with the best people you’ll ever meet,” she answered with that same easiness to her. “It’s a small, intimate party: invite only, hosted by Haven at the Loving House.”

Evan liked the sound of “small, intimate, invite only.” Those might possibly be Evan’s favorite adjectives.

He jogged to catch up with her.

“Hey you should walk with more confidence,” Khloe said, but not exactly unkindly.

Evan looked down and noticed his hands were clenched together in their usual position, held as close to as his body as possible. He was also hunching over like he usually did.

“Um, I… can’t?” Evan practically whined. So many years of teachers telling him to sit up straight, stop playing with his hands, stop rocking, look someone in the eyes when they speak to you, answer clearly… it never seemed to sink in.

Evan had to endure so many years of his mom’s jaw oh so subtly clenching as teachers and guidance counselors suggested behavioral therapy, told her to her face that her son was basically a freak and that they thought she was a bad mother for letting him be a freak.

“That’s okay, it was just a suggestion,” Khloe responded. Her mouth was twisted down in what looked like the opposite of a smirk. Evan’s heart missed several beats.

He had just met this girl, but already he felt sick to his stomach thinking about being abandoned by her. She’d probably change her mind about inviting him to her party, ask him which dorm was his, and drop him off. She’d wish him a good night and then probably tell her cool artsy friends about the pathetic weirdo she ran into.

The pair walked in silence back in the same direction Evan Jared and Alana had come from. But they were walking past the first year housing, at least a little farther it seemed. Every so often Evan would hear random shouting or screaming or laughing and he’d resist the urge to flinch.

“I love this time of year,” Khloe said out of nowhere. But she wasn’t looking at Evan, so he didn’t know if she wanted him to respond.

“It’s like, the precipice of change. You can feel it in the air. It happens every year, but still each time it feels brand new,” she continued.

Evan wanted to tell her that it was actually changing wind patterns from the axial tilt of the earth, or at least he _thought_ it was something like that. But that only made him think about how unprepared he felt to be a biology major and he envisioned all the quizzes and tests he’d bomb, and how he’d have to drop out of college and work at something like Pottery Barn for the rest of his life, and his heart thudded so loudly he was sure Khloe could hear it.

“Um… so what’s Haven?” Evan squeaked out instead.

“Oh, it’s the university’s lgbt+ student union,” Khloe said casually.

Evan had heard about those from Jared, but only in the vaguest terms. Whenever he asked, Jared pointedly told Evan that he wasn’t allowed to know. Which was totally fine, Jared was allowed to have secrets, but still every time Jared said “it’s not for you”, or “you don’t need to know”, the wind left Evan’s sails. It was the same thing as being rejected. And for some reason, being rejected by Jared felt worse than by anyone else.

“The building our party’s being hosted in is up ahead, right there, see,” Khloe pointed.

“I’m actually the co-president of Haven,” her chest puffed out with pride. “You’ll be my VIP guest.”

Oh, of _course_ Khloe wasn’t wearing a gay Lara Croft costume. The costume was just Lara Croft. Khloe was…

“So…” Evan felt his hands slicking up despite the cold. “So, um… and you _totally_ don’t have to answer this if you, um, you don’t- you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want- if you don’t feel, um, comfortable, or? Well, um, what I’m trying to say- _ask_ , is, um…”

“I’m gay,” Khloe laughed. “I thought it was pretty obvious. What about you?”

Evan stopped dead in his tracks. He didn’t expect to be asked back.

“I- um… I…” Evan was rubbing his knuckles so hard that his skin started to chafe. “Um. I’m… straight…?” saying the word “straight” felt like trying to swallow poison. Evan really didn’t know why it felt that way, but his voice thinned out and lilted up into a question anyway. His face was white. He worried his lips until they started to chafe just like his knuckles.

Khloe stopped and turned around.

Evan suppressed a gasp. He knew she was about to ask him to leave. She didn’t want a straight person going to her gay party. Evan braced himself for impact.

Instead, she took a few paces toward him and put her hands on his own.

“Hey, it’s like okay if you don’t know, of if you’re not sure. Really, it’s fine. No one has all the answers.”

That was not what Evan was expecting. He wanted to insist that he _should_ know, he _should_ be sure. Because how hard could it be to know whether or not he was straight? Didn’t he like girls? And only girls? He did… right?

“I guess,” was all he could say back.

“Take some time to think about it,” Khloe said back. “Now let’s go have some fun, before Jeremy and Michael drink all the punch and then break up and make up again in the span of an hour.”

“O-okay,” Evan smiled nervously.

Khloe turned on heel and started marching forward again. Evan had to duck out of the way when Khloe’s backpack almost slammed into him.

The two reached the building. Khloe punched in her code and held her student card up to the panel. The light turned green and she held open the door for Evan. He mumbled a quick thanks as he squeezed past her.

“Are- are you allowed to have a party in this building?” Evan asked as they waited in the elevator.

“No, but I’m the RA on the third floor so it should be cool, we’re being discrete about it either way,” Khloe answered. She was typing a message on her phone, probably about him. Evan willed himself not to peek over her shoulder and read it.

After they reached the third floor, it was obvious where Haven was hosting their get together. A room at the end of the hall had colorful lights shining out of the half windows near the ceiling, and the ever so faint thud of a bass could be heard, but not felt. No one else appeared to be in their rooms on that floor.

“After you,” Khloe grinned, holding the door open for him again.

Evan entered.

It was maybe 500 square feet, a one room apartment. The carpet was shag and yellowing. There were big heavy curtains on the opposite wall (presumably covering windows), and a bunch of ugly chairs and couches with equally old and worn looking upholstery. Floor lamps with tacky shades were scattered here and there.

So this was Khloe’s apartment. Alana liked the same kind of retro decorations. It must be a lesbian thing. Was it homophobic to think that?

Khloe entered right after him.

“What’s up skanks! I brought more booze!” Khloe grabbed her backpack and unzipped it, showing beer bottles amid bunches of gauze. The room erupted in a cheer.

“Yas queen!” a guy shouted.

Evan looked over to the kitchen area, where there was a bowl of punch and stacks of red solo cups, though a guy was unloading beer bottles from a backpack of his own and placing them next to the bowl. There was another room, probably the bedroom, and a bathroom, but that was it. The bedroom door was closed, probably for good reason.

Someone had put little machines with changing colored lights that spun around in each corner of the room. A disco ball hung from the ceiling fan in the center of the room. There were paper cutouts of pumpkins and bats plastered on every wall. On the coffee table, someone had hooked up a wireless amp.

Evan quickly took out his phone and opened Shazam. In the Next Life by Kim Petras. Huh. He didn’t know who Kim Petras was but he liked the song that was playing. It had a funky beat.

There were only about 30 people at this party, a tight fit for a small apartment, but nothing claustrophobic. A group of boys were apparently vogueing to the music, but from the episodes of Ru Paul and Pose that Jared watched with him, Evan could tell they weren’t very good at it. A couple of girls with short haircuts and lots of tattoos were talking and laughing with each other near the kitchen. Two boys were making out near the bathroom, blindly reaching for the door handle.

“Stop staring. Go mingle. Meet people,” Khloe gave him a playful little shove.

Evan practically tripped over himself and ran into a guy who was a little taller than him. The guy was dark skinned, and his hair was styled in one of those curly undercuts that were all the rage. He had high cheekbones, a broad nose, a strong forehead and jawline, and long eyelashes. This guy could be a model. When he noticed Evan he smiled.

“Oh, you’re the guy Khloe told everyone about just now,” he said. Well that wasn’t ominous at all. The guy sat down on the sofa and patted the spot next to him. Evan was grateful to finally get off his feet so he obliged, but not without feeling a nervous little moth flitting around in his stomach.

“Yeah, I’m Evan,” he said, fiddling with the sleeves of his costume nervously.

“My name’s Rafael,” the guy responded. Evan felt an arm snake around his waist.

“Cool,” was all Evan could say before a bottle of beer was thrust into his hand. He took a sip without thinking. It was really bitter. Oh, an IPA, naturally.

“So…” Rafael drawled, “what’s your costume? Are you supposed to be a penis?”

Evan choked on his beer.

“What? No! I’m um… I’m Captain Kirk, and also Toad… from Mario.”

“Hmm,” Rafael hummed. “You’re cute.”

“Oh.”

“What do you think of my costume?” Rafael asked playfully. His tongue was poking between his teeth.

Evan noticed his new acquaintance was basically wearing nothing but leather and spandex. He looked a little closer. It looked like a suit, or maybe a uniform? Oh, there was a badge, it was just hard to see in the light.

“You’re… a police officer?” Or more rather, like a fetishized version of a police officer? Evan didn’t say that part out loud of course.

“Sure am, babe,” Rafael answered with a wink.

Evan didn’t say anything.

“You like it? We could get out of here if you want? I have off campus housing, and my apartment’s empty right now. Maybe I could even _arrest_ you, if you wanted. I have handcuffs,” Rafael waggled is eyebrows.

He put his beer down and clasp Evan’s free hand with his own. His thumb was slowly but insistently rubbing over Evan’s own thumb, back and forth. This was weird.

“Police brutality is at epidemic rates in this country,” Evan spurted out.

Rafael just looked at him with his nose wrinkled. “Um, okay… it’s like… not that deep fam. It’s just a sexy costume. You think _I_ don’t know about police violence, gringo? I wrote a paper on it for my sociology class and everything!”

“Sorry,” Evan whispered. He could tell Rafael was getting annoyed, if not mad. It wasn’t the brightest thing to say to a man of color after all.

“I’m really sorry,” Evan squeaked. He accidentally hit his teeth with the rim of the beer bottle.

Rafael’s hard stare softened.

“It’s okay, babe. I can tell you’re just nervous. All if forgiven. Just relax,” Rafael’s arm tightened around Evan’s waist.

“Keep drinking, that’s it. This is a party, no need to be so wound up.”

Evan brought the beer bottle to his lips over and over again. He didn’t care if tasted bad. Anything to escape this conversation. His old friend Awkward Silence fell on the two of them like a thick blanket of social ineptitude. Rafael didn’t really seem to care, just leaned even closer if that were possible.

Suddenly Evan felt lips on his neck. He staggered backward and jolted up off the couch.

“Whoa dude! What the hell!” Rafael shouted. Evan had caused him to knock over his beer bottle. Thankfully it was empty, but Rafael was glaring sharply at Evan anyway.

“Sorry, dude. But I- um… I don’t like, I mean, you’re handsome and all, _wow_ you’re _very_ attractive actually. I’m sure, um, well on any other night I’d let you handcuff me and, um, like spank me or whatever you’re into, but uh… sorry! I have to go!”

Evan shuffled away toward the kitchen, leaving Rafael staring after him with a lost and hurt expression, before scoffing to himself and getting off the couch. The guy was handsome; Evan didn’t doubt he could easily find someone else to hit on.

Evan’s palms were _seeping_ sweat, and his heart was pattering like a stampede of rabbits.

“Khloe,” he whined, interrupting her conversation. She turned away from her friends and toward him. She frowned slightly.

“What’s up Evan?” She looked mildly disconcerted.

“People are _flirting_ with me, I mean I _think_ … is that narcissistic of me? What if he wasn’t? Oh God. Or wait, no, he was trying to kiss me. But um… I don’t- I mean not that I’m offended- _God_ no, but- no I mean I really am flattered, but um… yeah. So. Um… I forgot what I was, um, what I was trying to say.”

Khloe grabbed his elbow gently and steered him away from her friends. Good call. Evan wouldn’t want to see himself yammering away like a lunatic in front of his own friends either.

“Listen Evan, some people are going to hit on you. It’s a gay party. Straight men hit on me every day. I think you can handle a couple gay men hitting on you for one night.”

Evan isn’t sure if she meant it to sound harsh, but still his face heat up.

“I- oh no, I wasn’t hitting on you earlier, I _swear_ -”

“What?! Evan I’m not talking about you I-” Khloe pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just, go have fun. Or don’t. Your choice. Put yourself out there. If someone does something you’re not comfortable with, _tell_ them.”

Evan thought about hurling himself through the windows behind those curtains. He’d make a pretty interesting looking stain on the pavement below.

“Now I mean this in the nicest way possible,” Khloe continued, swapping out Evan’s empty beer bottle with another full one. “But I’m not here to babysit you.”

The implied _“so don’t come crying to me every time you freak out over literally nothing like I know you will at least 18 more times tonight”_ punched Evan in the gut. It didn’t, in fact, sound very nice. But Evan understood. It had taken all of a half hour and one embarrassing interaction for the cool edgy art girl to deem him not worth her time anymore. He knew people didn’t like having him around, and that was okay, that was totally an acceptable reaction to being forced to talk to or spend time with Evan Hansen.

“Yeah okay… I’ll go… mingle,” Evan sighed.

Khloe gave him a thumbs up and what was probably a genuine smile, but Evan was going to err on the side of caution again. She probably wanted him to drop dead so she and her cool friends could laugh at his corpse.

Evan didn’t waste any time getting into his second beer. He ended up just standing near the middle of the room listening to the music and tapping his foot, like a loser.

Soon another person approached him.

“Sick costume- very funny, very ironic, very prestige meme. Is it a statement on hypermasculinity as attached to the stereotypical designated male hero in cinema? Like, wow actually, you’re saying that the male action hero is literally thinking with his dick, that’s _so_ clever! If a bit on the nose, but art doesn’t have to be subtle sis!” the girl chirped, pointing at Evan’s Toad hat. Everyone at the party seemed to think it was supposed to represent a penis.

The girl was dressed as Shrek.

She was wearing a fat suit, and even her head was in some kind of fat suit, otherwise her face wouldn’t look so unnaturally small. Her face was even painted an obnoxious and unflattering shade of green, and she had glued on little antennae. The antennae were crooked. Did she shave her hair for that? Why would anyone do that? Shrek came out, like a billion years ago anyway.

Evan stared at her dumbfounded.

“Why does everyone keep saying my costume is ironic?” was what he finally decided on saying.

“Oh, because, it’s like- bad on purpose, essentially,” she answered, sipping on her beer. “Like not bad, I love the artistic statement, but you know like _bad_ , God, what the fuck is the word I’m looking for? Cheap? Tacky! That’s it. It looks tacky.”

“I didn’t _intend_ for it to look bad,” Evan said rather petulantly.

She just stared at him. If she hadn’t hidden her eyebrows, Evan pictured that one would be raised curiously at him.

“I was just trying to make both of my friends happy, so I combined two costumes. I’m not making a statement, I’m not a meme, I’m just me,” he added lamely.

Evan downed the rest of his beer angrily, but then set it down gently on a coaster on the coffee table. He was annoyed and overwhelmed by this party but he was still going to follow basic etiquette.

If it was possible, the girl’s smile got even wider, even more deranged.

“That’s honestly amazing. I thought I was going to be the resident queen memeslut. Well, either me or fucking _Jared_ , but you earnestly combined the Star Trek uniform with a mushroom hat, for no real reason? Dude, you’re a genius and you don’t even know it.”

Evan was going to blurt out _“Wait you know Jared?!”_ , but the girl walked away without saying another word to him.

Evan blinked stupidly. Of course she knew Jared. She acted a lot like him. Evan had originally thought Jared was just like _that_ because it was his own weird sense of humor, but maybe _all_ gay people were like that. Then it dawned on him that this was one of the secret lgbt organizations that Jared was always so tightlipped about. Jared probably knew every single person in attendance. Evan just wished that Jared was there with him then.

He could admit to himself that after starting college, he tended to use Jared as a crutch in social situations. Let everyone be distracted by the dumpster fire that was Jared attempting to be cool, and then Evan might sift through the ashes and make an acquaintance or two that he even messaged on facebook once or twice after that! Of course, Evan ran the risk of being burned by Jared’s intense flame, but that’s how all fire was. Equal parts danger and comfort. Jared was wild and dangerous, but warm and safe too.

Evan sighed. He missed Jared. He missed Alana too, and felt bad that his stupid ugly dysfunctional brain just shoved her out because he was apparently obsessed with Jared, like a total weirdo.

But Alana was exactly the person who could tell when Evan was getting too close to fire. She could put out the fire. Or maybe not put it out, but tend to the fire, leave it a nice glowing pile of embers, cozy and safe for all parties involved.

But where did that leave Evan? It didn’t seem like Evan contributed to anything in this analogy, he was just someone leeching off his friend’s radiant and loving energies? He felt sick.

Evan checked his phone. No messages from either Jared or Alana. So they really had just abandoned him. They probably realized that they wouldn’t have to drag his sorry ass around parties having to step in and introduce him when he stuttered through meeting people, wouldn’t have to explain for him who he was going as and way.

Evan knew he was a bad friend, a useless friend, but somewhere deep down he also hoped that Jared and Alana would stick by him in spite of all his faults.

Resisting the urge to cry for the second time that night, Evan found a cooler full of different kinds of fruit flavored cider. He picked one up and immediately started taking hefty swallows. Oh, this went down much better than the pretentious craft brews.

Maybe he could steal a few bottles of cider and then go back to his dorm room, nurse them all night and maybe all morning too. But his mind’s eye painted the picture of a campus police officer catching him with a ton of alcohol, then he’d get expelled, his mom would cry and look _so_ disappointed because he had thrown away such an amazing opportunity, and then he’d end up working at fucking Pottery Barn for the rest of his life-

Evan bumped into a very short plump girl wearing purple all over. Even her hair was purple. She had glitter on her face and arms too, very thick square rimmed glasses, and little fairy wings on her back.

“Oh hey there,” she smiled. “I’m Kaelyn. Khloe texted me that she was bringing a newbie. So… you’re this Evan right?”

“Evan? Yeah, I’m Evan.” God he was doing it _again_. “Oh, sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” she asked, looking at him with what must have been suspicion.

“Oh, it’s just that, um, it’s just so annoying when people do that, you know? You know, you say my name and I say it- you know I repeat it back to you?”

Why did this conversation always play out the same way with such regularity? This was his Sisyphean boulder, it would seem. Evan remembered that story from his mythology class. He wasn’t sure why he had to remind himself where he had learned the word. Sisyphean was a fun word to say. Was he drunk yet?

“Right… So! What’s your damage?” Kaelyn asked, taking a swig out of her solo cup. What a weird question to lead off with. Evan was at a loss for what she meant by that. So he decided to interpret it literally. That was always the first logical choice.

“Oh, well I uh… I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder, um… clinical depression, my dad left when I was 7? I broke my arm last year, and then I got to date the girl I had been crushing on for years, but then she dumped me, but I deserved it after what I did, oh and my mom and I have kind of struggled financially over the, um, years, and I’m having trouble adjusting to college life, and my roommate is mean to me, and I haven’t made any new friends, I’m worried I did bad on all my midterms, and I hate wearing this stupid costume, so many people have been assholes to me about it tonight, so.”

Evan suppressed a hiccup.

“And I’m being so awkward at this party and I’m thinking about all the different ways I could ruin my life by making a single choice, I want to be drunk but I’m also worried how alcohol will work with my medication… basically I kind of want to die right now? I actually always want to die at least a little.”

“Ah, big chungus mood,” was all she said as soon as she finished downing her drink.

“M-mood? Big- What?” was Evan having a stroke?

“ _Mood_ ,” she reiterated with emphasis.

“What… does that mean?”

“It’s like, when you can relate to something. You know what, never mind,” she chuckled, rubbing the back of her head self consciously.

Evan kneaded his fingers together, bouncing on the soles of his feet. The rocking motion helped ground him a little. So she could relate to wanting to die? That was… unsettling. Evan wasn’t _entirely_ serious. He did often have the visceral impulse to wish he didn’t exist anymore, but… oh, maybe she could relate to that part of it. Or maybe she related to another part of his utterly incoherent meaningless rambling. He was overthinking everything and everyone could probably tell. Evan drank more cider.

“So, you date women?” Kaelyn asked after a few too many seconds of silence.

“It’s just that you mentioned an ex girlfriend and- yeah…” she added.

“Yeah, I guess.” Evan answered a little snippily. He scuffed his boot on the carpet. He was looking anywhere other than her eyes, something he normally did but never so unsubtly.

It wasn’t like he _actively_ dated women. He had only ever dated Zoe, and that was all based on a sick lie. Well, he had gotten what he deserved for it. It was all in the past. He shouldn’t dwell on it. She had forgiven him.

“So you’re bi then?” Kaelyn asked.

Evan blinked a few times. Oh _bisexual_. For a second he thought she meant bipolar.

“Oh- oh no, I’m not. Sorry if I’m, you know- weird. You know, slow on the, um- bad at answering. Things. I’m socially inept. I’m um, on the spectrum though, so. Yeah. Sorry.”

Her face melted into pleasant surprise.

“Oh worm? You’re ace?”

“I’m sorry?” Evan cocked his head. Was she trying to compliment him? It was like there was a language barrier between them.

“You know, ace? Like, you’re on the asexual spectrum…?”

“Oh no no no no no… the, sorry, the um… the autism… spectrum.” He didn’t know there was another kind of spectrum.

Kaelyn looked slightly disappointed, but she was doing her best to hide it. Evan _really_ hoped all the shit he was drinking was going to kick in soon. Maybe being blackout drunk would make him act more normal. Or at the very least maybe it would help him not notice everyone always being so fucking disappointed in everything he said and did. Evan really was, just the most garbage human being.

“Oh, okay, that’s still hecking valid,” Kaelyn stuck out her fist. Evan awkwardly put his hand over it and shook it. She giggled nervously, her eyes darting around like she was afraid.

“So, like, not to be annoying, but how do you not know what asexuality is?” Kaelyn asked with an accusatory edge to her voice.

"Are you like, an exclusionist or something," She continued, glaring daggers at Evan.

“Uh… I don’t know what exclusionist means? Is that a thing on tumblr? I don’t, um, use tubmlr, so… maybe, um... I guess,” Evan swirled his bottle of cider around, blatantly looking away from her. He _used_ to have a tumblr in middle school, when he wrote angsty poetry and reblogged pictures of fall and nature and Joni Mitchell lyrics and Sylvia Plath stanzas, and he posted about how much he wanted to die and that no one understood him. In the words of Jared: maximum cringe.

“Um, okay, _wow_ , so I’m going to go talk to my friends now. It was nice meeting you, Evan,” Kaelyn hissed, indicating that she didn’t think it was nice meeting Evan at all.

She stomped off. It was clear from her body language that she wanted to get away from Evan, and quick. He didn’t blame her. Because who would actually want to be around him? He overheard her mutter “I can’t believe Khloe invited a fucking _cishet_!”

Evan wasn’t exactly sure what he said wrong, but as always it was best to assume everything he said was wrong. He knew that people could only barely tolerate him at best. Evan wouldn’t want to be around himself either.

“Oh I get it now: _Mood_ ,” Evan murmured to himself. Suddenly he could feel the alcohol starting to work its magic.

He felt lightheaded and a little dizzy, but he didn’t feel in danger of falling over, so that was nice. His limbs felt heavier, slower to respond. Evan considered that a good thing and opened another cider. When had he gotten it from the cooler? Was that his third? Fourth? He honestly didn’t care. He wanted to escape the prison of his own mind for a little while.

So far, the party had been a total bust. Granted, it was still pretty quiet, the soft changing lights were nice to look at. There weren’t too many sounds or smells to overwhelm him, no fluorescent lights to give him a headache and nauseate him. But the people all seemed to be cruise missiles aiming directly for Evan’s awkwardness gland. Every conversation was ending in the other party being bored or angry.

Evan didn’t belong in a place like Haven, that much was clear.

“I’m just going to go home,” he said to no one in particular. He started to make his exit. But there was a substantial group of people (mostly guys) converged near the front door.

“And _that’s_ why I’m so iconic,” a voice said boisterously. Evan knew that voice.

“Jared?”

Evan timidly shouldered his way past the growing group of people gathering around Jared. They were all admiring his costume. Jared was doing body rolls, because of course he was. Evan’s face surged with heat. And of course that was when Jared saw him.

“Evan!” Jared cried happily, clearly very drunk himself.

Evan waved weakly.

“Everyone, this is my b- this is my friend Evan!” Jared yelled.

Jared sauntered over and latched himself around Evan’s neck, giggling. The gaggle of gays all mumbled to each other about that. Evan took another swig from his bottle, which was pretty difficult considering he was holding up all of Jared’s body weight with his neck. Normally Evan would hate his personal space being violated like that, but Jared had his own special exemption status when it came to a lot of things that Evan didn’t like.

“Evan? What are you doing here?” Alana asked out of nowhere.

Evan snapped his head to the side and saw her standing there, furrowing her brow at him. At some point in the night, she must have lost her beehive. Her hair was cascading past her shoulders, catching the strobe lights. She was a lot prettier than she gave herself credit for.

“Oh, uh… K-Khloe invited me,” Evan muttered. Jared slid off of him and fell to the floor with a thud. Evan suddenly felt slightly chilly.

“Khloe?” Alana said more than asked. Evan didn’t like the tone of her voice. He couldn’t parse it at all. But Alana was a master at schooling her expression, so that was more on her than on Evan. Still.

“I was just going to leave anyway… so.” Evan started, gesturing at the front door.

“No don’t leave!” Jared whined, struggling to get himself off of the carpet.

“No, I’m clearly overstaying my welcome. And I won’t stay where I’m not _wanted_ ,” Evan pouted.

Alana rolled her eyes, but with a tiny smile on her lips. She took a step toward him.

“Evan, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but. Khloe wouldn’t have let you come at all if she didn’t think you could be trusted. This is a safe place, and, well I guess what I’m trying to say is that, I mean, Jared and I- we trust you. You’re not _not_ wanted here. Does that make sense?”

Evan yearned to sprint past Jared and her and hide in his room for the next week.

“I guess,” he mumbled.

“Plus,” Alana started again with caution dripping from her voice, “Haven is a safe place for _every_ letter of the acronym, even the Q. So, you’re more than welcome here as long as you’re… exploring? Your, um, options?”

Why did everyone keep acting like they all knew something Evan didn’t? First Khloe, now Alana… Evan felt a cold knot of confused dread slither around in his abdomen. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“What Alana is saying is that she thinks you’re g-” Jared started to say before Alana hushed him loudly.

Evan blinked stupidly.

“But um… where were _you_?” he whined at Alana, ignoring Jared. “You two just _left_ me! You didn’t text me or anything!”

Evan could feel the familiar pull of tears trying to form on his eyes, but he resisted the urge.

“Oh bitch, what’s tea?” one of the Haven members said from the side.

That was when Evan noticed he was still the center of attention. At least 15 people were boring holes into him with their eyes, waiting for the “tea” to be spilled. Evan’s face burned. He wanted to get out of there as fast as possible, but Jared was clinging to his ankles. He managed to make a stilted half step before giving up.

Alana stepped closer again.

“I’m sorry we left you. But we’re also not responsible for you. You’re our friend, not our dog,” even so her hand gently clasped his and squeezed apologetically. Evan squeezed back.

“That’s fair,” Evan said before hiccupping. It was a little cold and unforgiving, very Alana… but Evan was starting to get to the point where he wasn’t quite processing every word he heard. But… he could have texted them at any time, instead of watching his phone like a sad puppy. No, she did have a very sali- salien- sal- she had a very good point.

“Plus, after we got separated, Jared immediately started drinking dangerous amounts of alcohol, so I was a little preoccupied with the _actual_ helpless dog in our friend group. I mean I barely got to exchange gmails with the polysci graduate students! I had so many questions to ask them about internships and community outreach! All that potential, gone! I would’ve picked their brains _clean_ Evan! Clean! So I’d say I’ve done, like, _twelve_ mitzvot tonight.”

Evan was pretty sure putting up with Jared at all on any given day constituted at least one mitzvah. Putting up with Evan must be at least six though. Given with how much Alana put up with both of them, she was definitely a Righteous Person by that point.

“Oh, so you dragged Jared here because you want to just, relax…?” Evan couldn’t picture Alana letting her hair down in any context, and yet her hair was literally down. It was even starting to spring back into its tight curls.

“Essentially, yes. We had always planned on coming here- and _God_ no, don’t look at me like that, we would’ve brought you with us- but we were sidetracked, admittedly.”

But… you seemed to make it here, right?” Alana asked.

“Yeah, but it’s, um- it’s like, I don’t think anyone here likes me,” Evan replied.

By then a Spooky Scary Skeletons remix had started playing on the speakers, and most of the onlookers had rushed to whatever empty space was in the room to start dancing. Evan felt the weight of their collective gaze lift off his shoulders. It was a good thing that no one was paying attention by the time Evan started throwing the pity party for himself, essentially accusing all of them of being stuck up and mean. Convenient, that.

“They just need to get to know you better,” Alana said. Her smile was so genuine that Evan couldn’t stand to look it without tears threatening to well up in his eyes. Was he drunk or just soft?

“Yeah maybe,” Evan shrugged. The room was starting to spin a little bit more than earlier. Still he brought the bottle to his lips for another sip.

“So,” Alana sighed, like she was relieving a weight of her own off her shoulders. “I’m going to get a drink. Keep an eye on Jared. Don’t let him die. It’s a simple task in _theory_ , but you never know what he’ll do.”

“I thought you weren’t planning on drinking tonight,” Evan slurred.

“Yeah she’s a _total_ hypocrite,” Jared slurred in agreement. “She judges me for being ~irresponsible~ but look at her now! Boo!”

Evan clumsily grabbed Jared’s hand and the two of them struggled to pull Jared off the floor. Alana watched in bemusement as it took the two of them over 30 seconds to succeed.

“Thanks _bro_ ,” Jared patted Evan’s back, and pulled out a little flask from his boot and offered it to Evan.

Evan took a swig without question, before gasping and retching. He put a hand to his throat. That shit _burned_! It must have been 200 proof!

“The wee bairn cannae handle his whiskey!” Jared said in a bad Scottish accent, his eyes crinkling up in a laugh.

Evan’s face felt very warm, from the liquor or from the teasing though? He took another swig before Jared ever so gently plucked the flask from Evan’s fingers and started drinking for himself.

Alana just rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, since you two have the attention span of shrews, I’m going to get a drink, and I’m not a hypocrite. I have nothing against alcohol, clearly. I was just waiting till we got here, because Haven’s no outing policy means that no one here can document anything I do. My professional and my casual lives will remain entirely separate thanks to Khloe’s rules. This is a safe place, and I actually want to _responsibly_ enjoy myself, maybe… say hello… to Khloe…”

“Okay,” Evan slurred. “Just don’t go home with anyone.”

“W-what? Why would I go home with anyone?” Alana paused, her face stuck between two emotions. A blush started to creep up her neck.

“Because these upperclassmen gay people like to brag about their fancy off campus housing, like I think that’s how they try to seduce people… and you’re like _really_ pretty. I don’t want a girl with the wrong intentions making moves on you,” Evan hiccupped.

Jared’s face mouth was hanging wide open in the biggest smile Evan had seen on him since Sophie’s album had come out in June.

Alana found herself grinning despite herself. “Oh, wow, thanks Evan! That’s really sweet of you to say, in a slightly weird way that may have unsavory _implications_ , but still sweet.”

At that, Alana flipped her hair at them and strode off to the kitchen. The women hanging out there all greeted her with a shout of excitement.

“Our little girl is growing up,” Evan mumbled. He felt Jared’s hands clasping his hands.

“Oh I _love_ drunk you,” Jared gasped.

At that point a slow song came on. Evan didn’t recognize it, but Jared perked up.

“Oh I also _love_ Sufjan Stevens, dude! D’y’wanna dance with me, Evan?”

Evan’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. He was sure he hadn’t heard that right.

“M-me? You- you’re asking- you want- dance? With me? Dance? Me!? Dance me?!?”

Evan’s brain felt so hazy and foggy, it was like things were happening but he could barely see them through a thick curtain.

“Yeah… dancing, dance, I wanna dance, I wanna dance with somebody, feel the heat with somebody, _love_ that for us, dancingggg,” Jared mumbled, his eyes unfocused.

Jared immediately reached for Evan, putting his hands around Evan’s waist, and pulling him close.

Evan gasped as he fell into Jared. The bottle of cider slipped out of his fingers and bounced on the carpet. Huh, the second time in the night Evan had caused someone to drop a bottle, even if the second time it was himself. Like the first time, though, it was thankfully empty.

“Oops! I dropped it,” Evan giggled, snaking his arms around Jared’s shoulders.

“Oops! I dropped mine too!” Jared laughed out loud, letting his empty flask thud onto the floor.

Jared and Evan swayed along to the slow dreary beat. Evan wasn’t sure what about the song was so great, but he suspected a second listening while sober would make him appreciate it more.

Evan lost track of time, but he apparently had started talking about what had happened to him after he got separated from Jared and Alana, because Jared hummed in amusement, and when Evan’s brain got a rare splash of piercing through the veil back to reality, he heard Jared rumbling softly.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, bro. I would have kicked their asses. Seriously, I’m making gains, I bet they were actually small. I would’ve knocked that cuntbag right the fuck out. But, like, dude, you stood up for yourself, in your own little fragile marshmallow way. M’proud of you…”

Evan lolled his head, not really aware what was going on, but he could tell that his mouth was still moving. And soon enough (though how soon Evan could never say) Jared interrupted him again, this time Evan could peer through the veil a little more clearly.

“Yeah Raf is extra. He tried to ask me out too, he kept saying how hot I was… and it’s like, no… I’m beautiful on the _inside_. I’m not shallow. I’m _more_ than just my huge, amazing dick.”

Evan hummed in agreement.

“You are… s’trueeeee, you’re beautiful on th’insideeeee, you’re just so funny and nice and _loyal_ and you pretend you don’t care but you care more than anyone I’ve ever known,” Evan rambled happily, before hiccupping. “I feel so safe with you.”

The moment probably didn’t look as genuine as it felt, considering Evan was so cross eyed he could see two of Jared at once.

Jared tensed. Which caused Evan to tense. Had he done something wrong? He was just saying what he felt, but if he crossed a line…

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… sorry- I’m- I’m sorry…”

Jared put one of his hands over Evan’s mouth. Evan noticed a slight blush dusting his cheeks. Jared was so cute, always acting like he was above it all, but he was just as embarrassed by compliments as Evan was.

“Stop saying sorry,” Jared said strangely seriously, with clearer enunciation than could be expected from someone so wasted. Evan nodded dramatically, if only to feel Jared’s warm hand on his hip again, boxing him in, making him feel sheltered from the outside world, if at least a little bit. Jared complied.

“Sorry…” Evan whispered loudly, before erupting into giggles. Jared glared at him (when did Jared lose the hat and moustache? Wasn’t that- wait) and Evan untwined his hands for a second to boop Jared on the nose. Then Jared’s expression softened and he started giggling too.

It felt so nice swaying slowly along with Jared. Evan was getting sleepy. He decided to put his head down on top of Jared’s head and close his eyes, just for a minute.

Maybe more than a minute passed. Evan thought he might have actually fallen asleep, but he couldn’t be sure. But when he stirred again it was enough to get Jared’s attention.

“You’re my best friend, Jared Kleinman. You’re a good person. You’re- you’re a” he paused to hiccup, “you’re a true mensch.”

“Dude, you can’t just _say_ wholesome shit like that, it ruins my reputation,” Jared slurred. Evan liked the way his voice felt rumbling through his body.

“But it’s true,” Evan pouted.

“I’m too drunk to argue,” Jared let out a breathy chuckle. Evan _really_ liked how that felt. He also liked feeling the puff of air hit his neck.

“You’re a good person,” Evan hummed. “But I’m a bad person.”

Jared stopped dancing. He pulled away slightly and propped Evan’s head upright. Evan blushed at feeling Jared’s hands on both of his cheeks. He even leaned into one of them without realizing it.

“Why would you say that about yourself?” Jared asked, his eyes squinting. His glasses were crooked. Evan bit his tongue to suppress another giggle.

But Jared only squinted harder, and Evan felt the blood leave his face. In the span of seconds, he felt too hot and too cold at the same time. Right, Connor. The reason Evan was a horrible person who deserved to die. The reason why the Murphy’s could easily make a killing if they charged people to piss on Evan’s grave.

“You know why,” Evan nearly whispered. He wished he could say it out loud, scream it to the world. But he Jared and Alana had agreed that the _one_ rule was very clear: do not blow the Connor Project’s cover, no matter how guilty any of them felt. No one could ever know. The three friends and the Murphy’s had to take the secret to their graves. Jared, Evan, and Alana could talk to each other about it, when they were sure no one else was listening. But no one else could _ever_ know.

“Evan…” Jared said, more like whined. “When are you going to forgive yourself?”

Evan scuffed the carpet with his boot and shrugged.

“I don’t know, never?”

“Well then let’s not think about it tonight, okay?” Jared whispered.

“Let’s just, enjoy ourselves. We deserve to have fun. We deserve to take a break and forget for a little while. We deserve-” he paused to belch, “we deserve to live our lives, and be _happy_. You deserve all that too. You do.”

“See,” was all Evan said after almost a minute of silence, his eyelids heavy. “I told you you’re a really good person. You just hide it because you’re afraid, of what you might find if you were vulnerable with yourself- with everyone else. But I know you. I _know_ you, Jared. You’re so good.”

Jared’s face flushed scarlet again. He then shook his head and looked off to the side, before looking back Evan and smirking.

“What up, I’m Jared, I’m 19, and I never fucking learned how to honestly convey my feelings like a normal person,” Jared shrugged his shoulders and bit the inside of his cheek.

“Jared your birthday isn’t until next week.”

Evan laughed out loud at his own bad joke, before loudly hiccupping.

“God, you’re so _fucking_ cute,” Jared gaped at him.

Evan beamed at him, his sadness forgotten (mostly thanks to being shitfaced). He eagerly wound his arms around Jared’s neck again.

“Let’s keep dancing,” Evan said shyly.

Jared’s hands found their way around the small of Evan’s back. They were practically hugging at that point. It felt so nice. Jared’s body was warm and inviting, and soon Evan found himself resting his head on top of Jared’s again. He was only two inches taller, so it wasn’t the most comfortable position, but the alcohol was making him so sleepy.

A few more moments passed. The playlist moved on to far more upbeat songs a while ago, but Jared and Evan continued to slow dance as if nothing had changed. Evan enjoyed feeling so close to Jared, and the slow back and forth of their swaying felt so good. Of course Tegan and Sara made good music for blurring the lines between slow dancing and regular dancing? Evan wasn’t really sure why his drunken brain was so bad at thinking normally, but it was so much more fun than picturing how every social interaction would literally kill him.

“Your hair smells so fucking good,” Jared broke the silence. He sniffed dramatically as if to prove his point.

“Thanks,” Evan flushed. “I use women’s shampoo.”

“It looks so soft,” Jared whispered so quietly that Evan was sure that Jared hadn’t even meant to say it out loud.

Evan opened his eyes and spied Alana making out with Khloe in the back corner of the room. Alana was sitting on an armchair, and Khloe was sitting on the arm itself, leaning down and kissing her deeply. Her hands were gripping Alana’s face tenderly, and Alana had a hand clasped firmly on Khloe’s… butt. Evan blushed at the sight of it.

“Oh…” Evan drawled, “that makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Jared hummed.

“Alana and Khloe are… kissing,” Evan staged whispered like it was some conspiracy.

Jared just shook his head, which caused Evan’s head to shake too. Evan giggled again as his horrible Toad hat fell right off his head and crumpled on the floor. Good fucking riddance. Fuck the Toad hat. Fuck everything it stood for.

“Ugh, this is the second time they’ve broken up and then pulled something like this,” Jared tutted.

Wow, Evan realized that Jared and Alana had _whole_ other lives that he didn’t know about. That this secret safe place was somewhere they could be themselves. A place that Evan had no idea about, that they didn’t want him to know about. Evan felt his stomach churn a little bit. How did he know if he really _knew_ either of his only two friends in the world? Who was the real Alana? Who was the real Jared? Jared liked to pride himself on putting up a front, but where was he putting up that front? Was he putting up a similar front to his friends at Haven. How many masks did Jared have, who was the real Jared?

“You’re talking out loud, bud,” Jared said with a slight chuckle.

Oh.

“To answer your question,” Jared took in a shaky breath, as he once again pulled Evan’s head away from him so he could look him in the eye.

“I’m the real Jared. The real Jared is the Jared who’s with you. I’m sorry that sounded so fucking lame now that I say it,” a very comely blush smattered his cheeks. His eyes glanced at Evan for the briefest of seconds before darting away, the red deepening on his face.

Evan had the inexplicable urge to pass out, but he wasn’t sure why. But there was something different about this situation. The urge to pass out didn’t exactly feel bad this time?

He didn’t feel his heart beating out his chest. His palms were dry. He didn’t feel everyone looking at him. His mind wasn’t whirling a million miles a minute, thinking of all the worst possible outcomes, or envisioning him humiliating himself. Was that the alcohol, or was it Jared? Had it always been Jared?

Evan stared deeply into Jared’s eyes, difficult considering his eyes kept crossing, but he tried. Jared stared right back. Evan noticed that they were holding both hands, their fingers intertwined.

“Make out!” someone shouted in the background. Evan strangely didn’t even feel like a vice was closing around his chest at the sudden attention, or even the implication that he should- oh. _Oh_. _**OH**_.

“Make out! Make out! Make out!” the chorus rose, and Evan finally looked around to see at least ten people smiling and pumping their fists, cheering him and Jared on.

“I mean… should we?” Evan asked, his voice small and, well not _hopeful_ , but… something.

Jared huffed a laugh, but his face was beet red.

“Why not? We’re both hideously drunk, right? Are we even going to remember this?”

And at that he leaned in, reaching up slightly, to slot his lips to Evan’s.

The first thing Evan noticed was that Jared’s lips were soft. He expected a boy’s lips to feel different from a girl’s lips, somehow? But they didn’t feel different at all.

The Haven members all cheered, but Evan didn’t care. Because after only a few seconds Jared’s tongue poked at the seam of his lips and Evan parted them for him with a soft gasp. Jared didn’t waste any time diving in deep, doing _things_ to Evan that Evan didn’t think were possible.

His only real kiss (since kisses before middle school didn’t even count) had been with Zoe, but they had never used tongue! Every chaste little peck on the lips was nothing compared to what Jared and he were doing.

Evan squeezed his eyes shut, telling his stupid brain to stop thinking about his ex girlfriend when his male best friend was tongue fucking his throat.

Jared tasted like vodka, cheap vodka. A lot of cheap vodka. But Evan was sure he tasted like overly sugary cider and hoppy beer. They both tasted like whiskey. He didn’t really care though. And by the way Jared was going to town on Evan’s mouth, it seemed like he didn’t really care either, if he even noticed.

Jared did some weird flick of his tongue, twining it around Evan’s. It rubbed up and down the roof of Evan’s mouth. Evan keened and timidly licked the underside of Jared’s tongue in response.

That earned him a gravelly growl from Jared, much deeper than his usual tenor, and just the sound of it made the hair on Evan’s arms stand up. Then one of Jared’s hands firmly clasped Evan’s ass and squeezed hard.

Evan gasped out loud, and Jared took the opportunity to push his tongue past Evan’s, driving in as deep as he could reach. His whole jaw was working into it, and Evan moaned, low and loud, but Jared quickly swallowed the sound with his own mouth. Jared alternated between lapping at Evan’s hard palette and jousting with Evan’s own tongue.

Evan’s knees buckled and he leaned on Jared for support as Jared kept going and going and _going_. Evan gripped Jared’s shoulders hard, probably hard enough to bruise, as one of Jared’s hands (the one that had just grabbed his ass) was splayed on the small of his back, dipping him backward slightly. The other hand came to the nape of his neck and grabbed a fistful of Evan’s hair.

Evan had to pull back for air.

 _“Fuuuuuck”_ , he said so eloquently.

Evan’s mind physically couldn’t process what was happening. He was vaguely aware that a bunch of people were watching him have the first “adult” kiss of his life, with his best friend no less, even though Evan was straight. He even thought he heard Kaelyn saying “I’m _so_ going to fap to this later.”

But… it was as if none of that mattered. Of course he was flushed a deep red. Both he and Jared were panting, their eyes glossed over. But, it had nothing to do with embarrassment. None of the set dressing mattered.

Evan felt a million different things. Confusion, affection, excitement, lightheadedness, nervousness, happiness… but not fear. Evan didn’t feel an ounce of fear. He couldn’t remember the last time he was in a social situation even remotely comparable to what was going on at the moment, where he felt less afraid than he did right then.

It felt… really good. To just focus on what was going on right in front of him, at that very moment. Everything else was periphery.

“You’re a really good kisser,” Evan panted.

“Thanks! You… will learn to be a really good kisser,” Jared laughed breathlessly.

“Oh. Was I bad?” Evan looked down at his feet, before Jared tipped his chin up and looked him in the eyes.

“No, just… inexperienced. Passive. That’s not a bad thing, necessarily. Yeah.”

Jared pat the front of Evan’s costume sympathetically. Jared looked so… adorable, with his glasses steamed up, his ears bright scarlet, biting at his lip nervously, like _he_ was the one who was nervous and shy and inexperienced. Evan found that hard to believe with how much confidence he had when kissing someone.

“I…” Evan paused, his own blush came back in full force.

“I liked the way your hand felt in my hair,” he mumbled shyly.

“Jesus _fuck_ , Evan, you’re really trying to kill me aren’t you?” Jared let out half a laugh before it sounded like it got stuck in his chest.

Then, without warning, Jared closed the difference and began to kiss him deeply again. The hand found its place in his hair too, gripping it tightly enough to cause Evan’s eyes to roll back into his head. Evan’s hand shyly slid up the back of Jared’s head and his fingers coiled around Jared’s silky locks. Jared responded by tugging slightly on Evan’s hair, pulling harder when Evan mewled and melted into Jared’s arms.

Eventually they had to break apart again, but not before Jared bit down on Evan’s lower lip and tugged on it hard.

“Oh wow. Thanks- thanks for, um… for taking my mouth virginity, Jared,” Evan breathed.

“I don’t think you fully grasp what that actually implies, Evan,” Jared rolled his eyes, but once again his ears looked like they were on fire.

“Still, it was… nice of you. To do that for me,” Evan bit his lip, still tingling from Jared’s bite.

“You need to stop acting so damn cute or I’m gonna fucking lose it,” Jared whispered.

Without warning he latched his mouth onto Evan’s neck. Evan felt a sudden suction and cried out in surprise, his hands scrambling at Jared’s arms. Normally Jared wore clothes, so there would be something for Evan to twist his hands in. Evan just resorted to yanking down on his own jersey over and over again instead.

It’s not even that it didn’t feel nice, it kind of did. But. It was a little “extra” as the internet lingo went. And besides… if Jared bruised him, what would Evan say? That he and his male friend were tickling each other’s tonsils? How would that… sound.

The fog over Evan’s brain was starting to lift a little, and while the lizard part of his brain mewled at the attention of Jared’s (frankly talented) mouth, the rational part of Evan’s brain was telling him that for a “fun dumb thing two drunk friends did at a party”, for other people to watch and enjoy no less, Jared sure was acting like- oh.

Evan stiffened under Jared’s mouth, which was indeed currently sucking hickeys onto Evan’s throat.

This whole scene… could easily be interpreted as romantic.

Evan’s mouth formed a thin line. He wanted to say something, ever so gently test the shaky ground he was standing on, get confirmation that they were still just friends, that there were no strings attached to this, that it wasn’t something more. Why did Evan feel his heart flutter at the thought of it _being_ more? He was straight! He didn’t need intense platonic feelings to get confused for something they weren’t dammit!

“Jared?” Evan muttered.

Jared hummed in acknowledgement, but kept sucking on Evan’s skin all the same.

“Jer-bear…”

“You know what ruins the moment, Evan? Calling me by a nickname your _mom_ used to call me when I was eight,” Jared chuckled into the curve of Evan’s jaw. This time the heat of his breath felt stifling instead of titillating.

The moment. The _moment_. Evan knew what that meant. He knew exactly what that meant.

His stomach roiled.

Evan very, very gently pushed Jared’s head back. Jared, to his drunken credit, didn’t resist.

“What?” Jared looked a mixture of confused, hurt, annoyed, and suspicious.

“Um, I just- like, oh _God_ but like… um, yeah so- I mean-” Evan’s tongue felt heavy and useless in his mouth, probably a consequence of Jared literally beating it into submission with his own tongue.

Jared’s brows collapsed downward. His eyes narrowed so drastically it was like they were closed.

“What’s wrong, dude?”

“No, nothing’s wrong, it’s just that- well… it’s kind of funny actually,” Evan laughed nervously.

“What’s funny?” Jared’s arms tightened around Evan’s waist.

Evan took a shaky breath. His hands were starting to sweat (they normally didn’t around Jared), and no doubt Jared could feel it on his exposed skin. Evan cringed internally. Poor Jared.

“It’s just funny that… well you _know_ , that- that… um…” he trailed off again. He couldn’t bring himself to even say it. He didn’t even really know what “it” was supposed to be. When he searched for any kind of words to articulate, he came up with nothing.

God damn it Evan didn’t want to cry in front of Jared, and thirty other people, all because he felt confused and slightly nauseated but also _so_ loved and valued, slow dancing there in Jared’s arms.

“Are you okay bro? Do you feel sick?” Jared broached gently. His hand tenderly cupped the back of Evan’s neck.

Evan shook his head. It was a stupid notion, after all. Jared obviously didn’t think this situation was romantic. Why would Evan even assume that he would? Just because Jared was gay? That meant he had to be attracted to Evan? Homophobic much! Evan knew that Jared could have any of the hot guys at the party, or on campus, or in the city… anywhere in the world. There was _no_ logical reason he would actually _want_ Evan. And it only made Evan feel queasier. Knowing that Jared wouldn’t ever be interested in him like that… for some reason it hurt. Why did that hurt?

“I’ve just had a lot to drink I guess,” Evan grumbled.

Jared stiffened slightly. Evan’s heart started to batter against his sternum.

“Oh yeah… yeah I did too. We both did. A lot to drink. Yep, sure had a lot to drink,” Jared drawled. There was a dangerous edge to his voice that made Evan feel like a rabbit being eyed by a fox

“But it’s a fucking party right? How could I have forgotten that we’re at a party?! Hah, imagine that!”

“I don’t know if I’ll remember anything tomorrow,” Evan said with a nasally little chuckle. He scuffed the floor, accidentally hitting Jared’s foot.

“Sorry.”

“Oh no yeah definitely bro,” Jared’s hand tightened painfully on Evan’s waist. “I won’t remember a goddamn _fucking_ thing!”

“Yeah, put me on girls gone wild! I just kissed a _guy_!” Evan forced out a laugh that ended up sounding more like a squawk.

Evan tried to pull his shirt off, but as soon as his bellybutton was exposed he immediately changed his mind about stripping in front of any living human being and let the jersey fall back down.

“Hah, what’s really funny though, _bro_ , is that you were just thanking me for rocking your world, for, and I quote, taking your mouth virginity, and that you, and I _quote_ , liked when I pulled on your hair,” Jared barked out a tense laugh of his own.

“Well, it’s 2018, can’t a straight guy kiss his best friend and not have it be a big deal?” Evan chuckled, but he knew the laughter wasn’t reaching his eyes.

Jared laughed loudly. He grabbed Evan’s arms and shook him slightly. His eyes were a little bit maniacal.

“Yeah we’re just having fun!” Jared practically shouted. “Why should there be a stigma around bros kissing just for fun? It’s not like this is romantic right? I mean… like you said, you’re straight right? Not every act of physical intimacy has to be _romantic_!”

Evan felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Or did he? Jared seemed to be getting more frantic by the second. Ever since Evan reminded him how drunk he was, how not in character this was for someone like him. Jared seemed… upset?

Evan just nodded stiffly, and let himself be distracted by the sound of the music. The playlist was essentially just playing the entirety of the Fame Monster.

“I’m going to get us more drinks,” Jared suddenly declared, and he detached from Evan. He stumbled toward the kitchen counter, cursing loudly every time he nearly tripped or nearly ran into a piece of furniture, or another person.

“Okay,” Evan said to no one. He already missed feeling Jared next to him.

Evan noticed Jared was talking to two boys who were standing near the punch bowl. They were not hiding the fact that they were glancing at Evan every few seconds. One of them, taller than Jared and the other boy, caramel skinned (like Rafael), with a red hoodie, belted out a laugh.

Evan was blushing bright red by the time Jared returned with two solo cups. He practically ripped it out of Jared’s hand and chugged the entire drink. It didn’t taste very good. It was basically koolaid and… was that tequila? It was actually very gross.

“Oh it’s that time of night? Well then l’chaym biznatch,” Jared smiled, and threw his head back, pouring the drink down even faster than Evan had. There didn’t seem to be any barely contained frustration or anger hiding in Jared’s face anywhere this time. That was good right?

“Anyway what were we talking about?” Jared asked. He plucked Evan’s empty solo cup from his fingers and put it inside his own cup, and placed them down on the coffee table (not on a coaster, Evan noted).

“Um… that there shouldn’t be a stigma about boys kissing, um, platonically?” Evan squeaked.

“My point stands,” Jared said.

“I mean, why can’t two guys make out for other people’s entertainment? Why can’t straight guys kiss each other? Straight girls do it. Straight boys will make out in _my_ feminist utopia!”

“You’re so right,” Evan started giddily slurring again, feeling the punch hit him all at once.

“I mean like, we’re actually really progressive, don’t you think? We’re, like- obfuscating- no… flouting? What’s the _word_ Jared? We’re defying gender norms, Jared! Alana would be proud!”

Jared nodded vigorously, jostling his glasses into an even greater state of crookedness.

“She’s right over there,” Jared said, then belched loudly.

Evan gasped excitedly and waved at their friend, who was shaking her head in a way only a parent of at least 3 toddlers could. Khloe had what seemed like a possessive arm around her shoulders. She gave Evan a strained smile and a thumbs up.

“I love platonic kissing!” Evan cheered, awkwardly trying to pump his fist, but he was too embarrassed to actually do it so it ended up being an aborted little flick of his wrist.

“Plus like, I mean, no offense, but like… you’re not even my type anyway bro,” Jared continued, casually inspecting his fingernails.

Well that hit Evan like a ton of bricks straight to the chest. He felt a wash of nausea climb up his throat. His blood ran cold.

“Hah, yeah, I mean not that I care, I don’t even like boys that way so why would I care, why would that affect me at all in any way?” Evan said, struggling to hide the wobble in his voice.

“Like, you could do so much better than me anyway, so it’s a blessing,” Evan added.

Jared did a little half laugh, smirking.

“I don’t think there are many guys better than you.”

Jared’s hands had found their way back to Evan’s body, clutching onto him. The sharp, almost intimidating look on his face fell away. The sincere, soft Jared was back.

Evan picked at his lip.

Jared didn’t have to lie to make him feel better. Evan knew he was a terrible person. Everyone already knew. He didn’t understand why people kept insisting otherwise. What did everyone see in him? Because Evan knew for a fact what people thought they saw wasn’t the real Evan. Hell, Jared and Alana had gotten a tiny glimpse of the real Evan and they still forgave him and wanted to be friends with him, how fucked up was that?

It turned out that the second wave of drunkenness, being hugged by Jared, wasn’t as liberating as before. His thoughts sloshed around miserably. Maybe Evan was a sad drunk after all. So much for no more fear.

As if the universe was answering his question, the playlist switched to Toxic. Evan’s eyes flew wide open, his mouth gasping into a beaming smile.

“Jared I _know_ this song!” Evan cried, bouncing up and down slightly.

“Yeah I do too buddy,” Jared rolled his eyes with a smile. “Everyone knows this song.”

“Let’s dance! No! Let’s spin!”

“You want- to spin?” Jared asked incredulously. His eyebrows disappeared underneath his bangs.

“Yes!” Evan cried again. “Hurry before the song ends!”

“Wow, yeah drunk Evan really is like a unicorn with, just, the craziest mood swings,” Jared mused to himself.

Jared shrugged and pulled Evan in even closer. Then he wrapped his arms around Evan’s lower back, and with a little grunt hoisted Evan up in the air in a kind of bearhug. He began to spin in place. He started off slow, his feet tripping over themselves, but soon enough Jared found his rhythm, and he started twirling Evan around faster and faster.

“Be careful!” Khloe called from the other side of the room, but Evan couldn’t be bothered. It must have lasted 30 seconds or less, before Jared ran out of steam and gently placed Evan back on the floor, but it felt like forever. The two of them were laughing so hard they started crying.

It hadn’t slipped Evan’s notice what Jared’s bulging arms looked like holding him up. He had done it with so little effort too. The thought of it brought a little heat to Evan’s face.

“You’re so strong,” Evan said breathlessly.

“Well you’re pretty light,” Jared’s neck had a smattering of rouge.

“Uh oh,” Evan felt the room spinning. His stomach churned again. It wasn’t from the kissing though, or the existential dread that seeped through him, the sinuous tension between him and Jared hanging unresolved in the air. It wasn’t even from the spinning, maybe. Okay it was probably from the spinning. But it was mostly the booze. Perhaps… Evan should have paid more attention to how much he was drinking throughout the night.

“What is it?” Jared asked, subconsciously tightening his hug around Evan’s back.

“Jared I have to throw up.”

“Wait what?”

Evan didn’t give him any more warning before doubling over and hurling all over the carpet. Evan was a very loud vomiter. The whole audience of Haven members groaned in disgust, or sympathy, or both. Some of Evan’s sick got on Jared’s boots.

Jared jumped backward with a yelp, but he hit the arm of the sofa and toppled over, landing flat on his ass.

“I’m so sorry ever-” was all Evan could get out before he groaned louder than a dying cow and spewed more all over the place. He spied Alana running to the bathroom and starting to pound on the door frantically. She had a hand clasped over her mouth.

The door unlocked with a click, but it was too little too late, and Alana hunched over and threw up on the floor.

Khloe’s mouth was wide open in abject horror. Her eye started to twitch.

After Evan and Alana were both sick, a few other students started vomiting. Evan had set off a veritable chain reaction of puke.

The girl dressed as Shrek simply smiled like she had won the lottery.

“Yes…” she crooned to herself, barely audible over the sound of at least 4 people spilling their guts out. “Yesssssssssss!”

Evan felt another crippling wave of nausea tear through him. He retched so hard he couldn’t breathe, with a sound akin to a congested walrus. But by then there was nothing left in his stomach (at least he hadn’t eaten all night). The only thing that came out was his high strangled sob that was cut off by his torso convulsing hard enough to lift him several inches higher.

Evan was done after the third round. His face was burning up, and tears stung the corner of his eyes. His abs ached. He lurched backward and sat dumbly on the carpet. The fact that the speaker was playing a super cutesy Carly Rae Jepsen song was not helping the mood.

“I’m so sorry!” he mewled to the entire room. The spill wasn’t _that_ big, but then again, no amount of a stranger’s vomit on your floor was too small he supposed. It was really the smell more than the sight of it that Evan felt bad about. Or was that the smell of everyone else’s bile?

Khloe’s fists shook at her side. Evan spotted some of her friends hurrying to the kitchen to unfurl entire rolls of paper towels. There probably wouldn’t be enough to clean up all the messes. But that was probably best left unsaid.

“I’m sorry,” Evan said again as she made her way to stand over him. Her face looked deadly. Steam was practically rising off of her head.

“Get. the fuck. out!” she snarled.

“Yeah, thassa’good idea,” Evan mumbled. He started to get up, which was difficult to do without putting his hands in the pool of vomit in front of him.

“Are you sure y’don’ wan’ me to help clean-”

“Just leave!” Khloe shouted. “All of you, get _out_! This party’s fucking over!”

Evan cowed away from her, and finally was on both his feet.

“Okay. S’wa really great party Khloe, thanks for inviting me…”

Khloe’s face contorted in rage, and Evan had to try _really_ hard not to laugh in her face. Her face looked so absurd, and so much anger emanating from her little pixie body. Evan swallowed down the laugh bubbling up in him (which was painful, so he figured he paid for it) by pretending to cough.

The horde of Haven members awkwardly shuffled out the door, aside from what Evan assumed were Khloe’s actual friends. They stayed behind, paper towels and carpet cleaner cans in hand, staring in their infinite judgement.

“Come on Jare’n’Alana le’s’gooooo,” Evan called as the last few stragglers filed out of the apartment. He peeked at Khloe, still red in the face, still glaring daggers at him. She flicked her hands out at him, signaling him to hurry up.

Evan staggered over to Jared as fast as he could, which wasn’t very fast. Evan limply flung his hand out at Jared, but Jared had mostly pushed himself off the carpet. He adjusted his glasses, and then his suspenders, trying to recover some dignity.

The two of them approached Alana, who was staring somewhat blankly in shock. Jared shrugged, and grabbed one of her elbows. Evan grabbed the other. With a little grunt, they both lifted Alana over her patch of ruined carpet and basically dragged her out the door.

It took a while for the elevator to be free, and when they finally got in Jared wiped his hand over all four buttons at once, so they had to go up a floor and then down to ground level.

The ride in the elevator was probably in Evan’s top five for most awkward silences ever. He clutched his stomach, sniffling obnoxiously loudly, though every time it burned he couldn’t help it. Alana was groaning weakly, leaning against the wall of the elevator. Jared kept giggling to himself.

The cool air felt _so_ good on Evan’s burning face. He had to stand in the moment for a little, let it wash over him. Then Alana bumped into him as she stumbled outside. Up close, Evan could see the beads of sweat on her forehead, the haggard look in her eyes. She looked exhausted. He _knew_ she was emto- ement- emat- _fuck_ , he knew she had a phobia of vomit, and if she saw (or smelled) it she couldn’t help but join whoever had started.

“I’m really sorry,” Evan wheezed at her.

Alana just shook her head.

“You didn’t choose to be sick,” she said. Always choosing the practical stance. She wasn’t even leaving herself room to be irrationally angry at Evan. She couldn’t let herself be irrational for a few minutes.

Evan rocked on his heels, pinching his fingers together. She deserved to be mad at him. He ruined her night getting closer to Khloe. He opened his mouth.

“Do _not_ try to apologize again,” Alana cut him off before he could speak.

Every neuron in Evan’s brain sang in unison “ _Do_ apologize again!” but before he could defy Alana’s very clear order, Jared stepped in between them, gently probing them off the stop and onto the sidewalk.

“I know how this sounds coming from me, but hear me out. Maybe it’s time to call it a night?” Jared asked.

“Are you kidding? The _real_ party’s just beginning!” a voice startled all three of them. Evan whipped around and saw Shrek girl peeking out from behind the door, the same diabolical smile on her face.

“Oh here, you two might need these,” Shrek girl said. She stepped out from behind the door and produced two water bottles for Evan and Alana. The two of them wordlessly accepted.

“You seem pleased,” Jared sniped.

“I am pleased. I thought that the resident meme bitch king and/or queen would be you or me, but Evan here just vaulted past the finish line with that truly, je ne sais quoi. It was a power move,” Shrek girl explained.

Evan stared at her with a mix of confusion and fear.

“I’m glad you enjoyed that… spectacle,” Alana griped.

“I’m an agent of chaos.”

“Hah, if anyone’s a chaotic neutral here, it’s _me_ ,” Jared pointed at himself with his thumb and then pushed his glasses up his nose with a smirk, eyes closed. It was a challenge. Jared had his own anime pre fight move! Jared never pushed his glasses up his nose whenever Evan said or did something stupid… which was all the time. It seemed like Jared never reveled in the intellectual battle between two memelords when he was mocking Evan’s latest fuckup. Evan just couldn’t keep up with someone as witty as Jared. Evan’s pulse increased. Maybe Jared thought he was boring, or _actually_ stupid, or lame.

“You’re a neutral good, Kleinman,” Shrek girl smirked back, making an L with her thumb and forefinger, resting it along her chin. She was doing an anime move too!

So this girl really was one of Jared’s secret gay friends?

“I, um, I still feel bad, though,” Evan piped in shyly, before Jared could strike back. “Khloe was so nice to me, and I just ruined her carpet.”

Shrek girl threw her head back and laughed, though she didn’t break eye contact with Evan while doing so. The effect of her costume and the crazed look in her eyes made Evan long for the safety of his down comforter.

“Khloe’s a bitch,” she said after pretending to wipe tears from her eyes. “Thank you so much for ruining her carpet. Every time one of her pretentious fake little Events gets derailed beyond repair, an angel gets its wings. Beautiful, spectacular, gorgeous, showstopping, iconic.”

“I guess. I still thought she was nice,” Evan unscrewed the cap to his water bottle and downed it all in less than a minute. Anything to get the taste/sensation of burning bile out of his mouth and throat.

As soon as he finished, and very carefully tossed the empty bottle into the recycling bin next to the stoop (he wasn’t a monster), Shrek girl produced another bottle.

“Where are you keeping all of those?” Evan gaped. He immediately opened the second bottle and started downing it.

“I absorbed my twin in the womb, and now I have dark powers.”

“Ignore her, Evan,” Alana said hoarsely. “She… jokes a lot.”

“But you don’t deny that Khloe is a bitch,” Shrek girl prodded.

Alana rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her water. Her jaw twitched.

“Oh I think Alana likes Khloe, like in a lesbian way,” Evan announced stiltedly.

Alana blushed so hard her face almost turned purple. Her mouth sputtered uselessly as she searched for a rebuttal.

“N-no it’s not that it’s just- it’s- ugh, _Evan_! Can you _not_!?”

Evan cocked his head at her. Then he cocked his head at Shrek girl, who was so bold as to put a hand on his shoulder. She had a haughty look on her face. Unlike Alana’s usual haughty look, this haughty look was looser, more relaxed.

“Khloe is what we in the biz call a “serial dater”. I was dumb enough to fall for her fuckery, once. I’m sure Alana can tell you all about it,” Shrek girl explained.

“Actually, Jun, we were just going to head home for the night, it was nice seeing you again,” Alana said cordially. Too cordially. She and Shrek girl- Jun- locked eyes and seemed to be having a silent conversation. Eventually they broke eye contact. Evan could feel tension in the air in his bones, wrapping around them and squeezing until they cracked and splintered apart.

Evan subconsciously rubbed his left forearm.

“So, your name is Jun? Like the month?” Evan asked tightly, still clenching his ulna. Anything to alleviate some of the pressure.

“No like the name,” Jun said as if Evan had asked the dumbest question in history. He probably had. He had probably offended her too. He couldn’t tell what ethnicity she was under all the caked green makeup but- actually thinking about what race she might be was probably racist, wasn’t it? Evan was sweating bullets.

“Well, it was nice catching up with my old pals. I mean I’m totally down to hang if you guys want. The night is still young… in California. Time isn’t real.”

“I think we’re just going to call it a night,” Alana pressed, her mouth set in a thin line.

“Okay then, I know when I’m not wanted,” Jun shot finger guns at them.

“Do you though?” Alana asked.

Evan glanced around to see if there was a nice rabbit hole he could maybe dive into.

“Okay everyone, let’s all perhaps, be more chill?” Jared said, hands raised appeasingly.

“Yeah… actually, it’s after midnight. So, Halloween is technically over. But it _is_ still Samhain. I’m needed elsewhere.”

“N-needed?” Evan shivered. Was she in a cult?

“We’ll see you at the next Haven meeting,” Jared cut in. He puckishly twiddled his fingers in a wave goodbye.

“Not if I see you there first,” Jun replied. “I hope you come too Evan.”

“Why- why would I come?” Evan asked, a little too quickly. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t go, as like, an ally, or whatever. But also, he couldn’t entirely rule out that Jun wanted to sacrifice him to some dark blood god.

Jun, head atilt, just looked at Alana, who simply shrugged with another roll of her eyes. Jared for his part looked like he ate a bad tuna salad, but the look on his face was gone just as soon as it appeared.

“Well come anyway. You can be our Jeff Goldblum,” Jun winked garishly at Evan.

Evan had no idea what that meant. Was Jeff Goldblum supposed to be a metaphor for a sacrifice?

But, as Evan pondered it, a fizzy feeling settled in his stomach. Was that more nausea, or was it excitement? He decided that, yes, he did want to spend more time with Alana and Jared, in a place where they were fully themselves. He wanted to get to know the few people he had met at the party a little better. He wanted to make it up to Khloe and hopefully earn her forgiveness.

It was a very strange sensation, _wanting_ to attend social events. He could probably blame it on the alcohol, but there was something, well, safe about a safe space. He would have Jared and Alana with him. And as awkward as _Evan_ had been, the people in attendance radiated positive and laid back energy. At least the one’s besides Jun. Well and that Rafael guy too. And Kaelyn, especially Kaelyn. But he could probably prove he wasn’t just another cishet to her. It would all work out.

“Yeah okay, I’ll go.” Evan surprised himself with his own voice. He fought to suppress a shy grin forming at the corners of his mouth.

Jared clapped him on the back, Alana smiled a tired smile, and Jun gave him a robust salute.

Jun then started to walk backward, in a direction that was completely opposite to where all the student housing was. She didn’t once look behind her. She never tripped over any of the twigs or pinecones or little rocks on the ground, or the tiny depressions and knots that the tree roots created. It was as if she knew the specific path she was taking forward and backward.

“Bye, see you, um, later,” Evan called meekly.

“Oh, you will,” Jun called. And then she was gone from sight, disappearing into the shadows.

So yeah she definitely wanted to sacrifice Evan.

He stared at Jared and Alana, who stared back at him. The lamplight of the building was harsh, the sound of the halogen lamp buzzing only emphasized the awkward silence.

“Sorry,” Evan said instinctively.

Alana massaged her temples.

“I want to go to bed, _so_ badly. I mean, I didn’t meet any of my goals tonight. And not only do I have to deal with Jared’s recklessness, your neuroses, Jun’s inability to take anything seriously, and Khloe’s temper, I’ve also had two drinks and I really need to start organizing how I’m going to block out my pre rough drafts for the four essays I have due next month.”

“Yeah that sounds like the weight of the entire world on your shoulders right there,” Jared snarked.

For once, it was Evan who started walking first. He clambered forward, constantly stopping to make sure the others were following, starting and stopping, until Jared and Alana were apace with him and he was able to relax.

Evan noticed out of the corner of his eye that Jared had stuffed his fingertips into his armpits, and he was biting his lip, but that didn’t disguise the fact that his jaw was quivering in place of his teeth chattering.

Evan wordlessly peeled the Toad vest off of his shoulders and draped it over Jared’s shoulders. The material was thin, and cheap. It wouldn’t do a thing to keep Jared warm, but it was the gesture that counted.

“Wow Evan, without you I’d surely freeze to death! My hero!” the dripping sarcasm in Jared’s voice was so caustic Evan could feel it burn his throat. Actually that was Evan’s own vomit.

Speaking of which, it turned out that drinking two entire water bottled in the span of 5 minutes wasn’t the best idea. Less than 5 minutes into their walk of shame back to their dorms, Evan felt another ripple of nausea roll through him, and he was soon retching onto the roots of a tree while Jared rubbed his back.

The hand on his back was light, tentative, not sure how high or low to go, what motion to use, so it just sat awkwardly. Jared’s freezing fingers uncomfortably transferred heat away from Evan’s body.

Strangely enough Evan couldn’t really feel the cold, but he also couldn’t really feel his own fingers, so granted.

Throwing up nothing but water did feel a lot less awful than hydrochloric acid and the slightly acidic alcoholic beverages Evan had been mindlessly gulping up for the past 3 hours. Is that how long it had been?

“That feels a lot better,” Evan said, rubbing his sleeve across his mouth and nose. He couldn’t bring himself to care about decorum. It was just Jared and Alana with him.

“I hope you learned a lesson,” Alana scolded from behind. Evan could hear her foot tapping the ground impatiently. She wouldn’t admit it, but she probably felt even colder than Jared did.

“I only had like, um… 7 drinks? I think?” Evan sniffled. He played with the hem of his costume.

“Wait did you have beer before we showed up?” Jared spun Evan around so fast his head lolled.

“Um… yes.”

“Dude! Did it not occur to you at all? Beer before liquor, never been sicker?”

“I don’t know what that means…” Evan pouted.

“It’s intuitive Evan!” Jared shouted, shaking Evan’s shoulders slightly.

“Stop yelling at me,” Evan slotted his head into Jared’s shoulder. He felt Jared relax at the contact but also stiffen at the same time. It was weird.

But soon that contact morphed into a full bodied hug, and Evan relaxed into Jared, and he felt Jared relax into him back. He thought he heard Jared say under his breath “Want to stay like this forever,” but Evan was still at least tipsy so he didn’t really trust his hearing right then.

“Alright, lovebirds. Break it up,” Alana scoffed, a shiver very audible in her voice.

Jared whined and peeled himself from Evan’s body. He very lightly grabbed Evan's hand and elbow and lead him out of the bushes back onto the sidewalk.

Alana rolled her eyes, but the grin betrayed how she really felt about the spectacle. Evan felt a tiny surge of blood pump into his cheeks. It was cute. Evan’s balance was quite good while drunk. It was Jared who managed to trip over particles of dust when he hit the bottle, and yet Jared was acting almost chivalrously, making sure Evan didn’t trip over a root or pine cone in the darkness.

“Thank you, sir,” Evan slurred happily.

“Anything for you, as long as you keep calling me sir,” Jared laughed.

Evan hit his arm playfully.

“Don’t be weird.”

Evan hardly noticed that Jared's arm was linked with his as they set off again. The three of them fell into a much easier silence as the freshman dorms grew in size. They were mere feet away when Evan felt a clenching vice around his bladder, the pressure building rapidly until he felt as if his entire abdomen would burst.

“Oh shit. I have to pee,” Evan announced, stopping in his tracks.

“You can hold it until you get back to your hall,” Alana said, her pace slowing but not stopping, to the point where she was practically marching in place. She shot Evan a glance like she was psychically willing him to keep going so she could reach the safety of her dorm room.

Evan crossed his legs and clenched his entire face.

“I don’t think I can,” he whined. “What do I do?”

“Just piss in the bushes,” Jared said with an easy laugh.

“Pee… in the bushes. Like- you mean… um, outside?”

“Yes outside,” Jared huffed a silent laugh, like he couldn’t believe how stupid Evan was. It was one of the stupider things Evan had said… in the last hour.

Evan wasn’t sure. He could so clearly imagine relieving himself in public, and someone walking by, screaming, alerting the whole campus, and soon enough Evan would be a registered sex offender, and he’d have to traipse around his hometown telling everyone “Hi, I’m Evan Hansen, I’m obligated to tell you I’m on the sex offender registry because I couldn’t handle my alcohol on the night of my first and last college party, and that’s why I work at Pottery Barn, please don’t egg my house, because it’s my mom’s house, and she works really hard, plus I only have 1000 hours left of community service before the judge expunges my record.”

Evan could feel his heartbeat in his throat. He glanced to his right. The building Alana lived in was barely 50 feet away. Was it that far away? Evan wasn't good at judging distances. Evan’s dorm was at least a few hundred more feet beyond Alana's. He’d have to make it there, unlock the door, call the elevator, wait in the elevator, and make it to the communal bathroom and hope a stall was clear, and also didn’t have shit in it because most 19 year old boys apparently loved not having to flush when they went to college.

But the longer he stood there, with Jared’s bemused grin and Alana’s furrowed eyebrows, the harder his legs trembled as he desperately squeezed every sphincter he thought he had control of.

“Ah jeez, okay. Fine, I'll pee outside,” Evan blurted out with a tremendous strain in his voice.

Alana threw her hands up. Her jaw was set into a hard line, and her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

“I’m officially done with tonight. I can make it the last, _yard_ to my dorm without _men_ needing to escort me. Good night boys.”

“Are you sure,” Evan called, even as he slowly tiptoed toward the bushes lining the sidewalk.

“I’m sure.” Alana shook her hands in resignation. She was already strutting back to her building.

“Goodnight!” Jared shouted.

Evan made sure to watch her until she reached the stoop of her dorm. He could hear the keypad beeping and the metallic shift of the magnet lock. And then Alana was out of sight, safely inside. Evan released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Have fun needing to piss every 15 minutes for the rest of the night,” Jared snickered.

“Wh- what do you mean?” Evan cocked his head, by then his hands were physically pressing on his crotch in some childish bid to hold his pee inside his body.

“It’s called breaking the seal dude.”

“I’m learning so much tonight,” Evan mused, his voice low.

“God your voice sounds so sexy like that,” Jared licked his lips, followed by a smirk.

Evan wrinkled his nose. Sure his voice was scratchier than usual, a little bit lower than his normal light baritone, but he didn’t think he could ever sound _sexy_. His voice was too nasally, too awkward and stuttering. Even if his voice was lower, like it was every morning, that didn’t erase those vocal flaws.

“Um, I’m not sexy.” Evan said matter of factly.

Jared scoffed.

“Sure, bro. You’re not sexy. You got me there. I mean, why do you think every gay guy at Haven asks me to ask you to let them follow you on Instagram? Why do you think you have so many female classmates twirling their hair around you and touching your shoulder, asking you if you know the answers to the homework? Like, dude, I know you’re a dumbass, but you’re not _that_ stupid are you?”

Evan snorted. He regretted that instantly. It was like he deviated his septum _and_ uvula at the same time. There was still some bile in his nasopharynx. No amount of dramatic huffing or sniffing would dislodge it.

“Don’t make me laugh, Jared! It hurts!”

“Poor baby,” Jared mock pouted.

Evan pouted for real, his lower lip jutting out and his eyebrows bunching up petulantly.

“You are just the fucking, cutest, most adorable human being I’ve ever seen,” Jared giggled.

“Okay Jared I _really_ have to go,” Evan’s knees were shaking with the effort of not wetting himself. He felt a full body shiver travel up his spine, and it wasn't from the cold air.

“Do you, like, want me to hold your dick for you or?” Jared’s eyebrow quirked. He swept his arm outward in a faux grand gesture to the row of bushes and stands of trees just a few feet from the sidewalk. His eyebrow was quirked expectantly.

Evan shook his head and blinked rapidly.

“Right, no you’re right.”

“Here, I’ll even break my own seal in solidarity with you,” Jared rolled his eyes.

Evan suspected that Jared really had to go too, but was saving face. Jared and Alana were always saving face around him. Evan didn’t understand why they bothered, Evan managed to catch on soon enough. They should have known that was the deal with befriending someone like Evan. He was obsessed with scrutinizing posture and facial expressions, probably a force of habit after being told his “disability” would prevent him from effectively doing so.

Now, to the business of relieving himself. Once he was what he thought a respectable distance from the sidewalk, out of the glaring light of the lamp, partially obscured by a tree, he unzipped his pants, pulled it out, and relaxed. Calmness washed over him as he emptied his bladder onto the poor arborvitaes.

Evan startled slightly when he heard another stream of urine nearby (much nearer than Evan would have chosen), followed by Jared’s contented sigh. Not that he was comparing, much less listening, or anything… but it sounded like Jared’s stream was louder. Evan didn’t know what that necessarily entailed, or why he would even think about that.

Then the sound of Jared's piss stream stopped. And then Evan finished himself. He was shaking himself out (he would prefer to dab on some toilet paper like a civilized person... not to mention he really should wash his hands as soon as possible), when he noticed that it was eerily quiet for a few too many seconds to be believable, considering he was with Jared.

The pine needles must have muffled Jared's steps.

“Whoa bro. Your dick is huge, and it’s not even hard!” Jared’s voice startled him again, this time definitely closer, basically over his shoulder.

“Jared! Stop looking at my dick!” Evan squealed, practically lunging into the air. He quickly put both hands over his crotch, panting. His eyes darted around frantically, as they grew to preposterous sizes. He could see Jared in front of him, frowning with concern, but Evan’s peripheral vision was quickly turning fuzzy, then black.

Evan felt numb. He was already shyer than most people, but he had let Jared see his mostly naked body before. That wasn’t so much an issue. But Jared seeing his penis? It felt… like defying something sacrosanct. Like there was no going back from that. And Jared had just commented on it so casually? Evan couldn’t possibly imagine seeing another man’s genitals and breezily complimenting him. If he had seen Jared’s dick, he would’ve turned beet red and not spoken another word to Jared all night.

“Bro? Evan? You... okay?" Jared waved his hand in front of Evan's face.

Evan didn't say anything. He didn't even really register Jared's hand.

"That was… that was pretty fucked up. I’m sorry,” Jared’s hand was on Evan’s shoulder. The pressure was almost nonexistent, like Jared was afraid he would crush Evan's bones if he touched him any harder.

Evan swung his head ever so slowly to center Jared in his vision. Jared was frowning, but his eyebrows were high. He looked afraid.

“You’re white as a ghost,” Jared whispered, biting his lip. “I’m really sorry. I crossed a line, didn’t I?”

“Y-you’re- um… you’re really pale right now too,” Evan said instead of answering.

Evan cleared his throat, licked his lips. His vision was still a little fuzzy, but it was no longer tunneled. He could feel blood thudding through his fingers. He could see out of the corner of his eye that his neck was quite literally jumping from the force of his heartbeat.

Evan turned around, taking deep breaths. He tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up. He clasped his hands together, pulling his arms close to himself. He rocked back and forth.

Jared slinked around so he was standing in front of Evan again. He put his hands over Evan’s hands. Evan tried not to think about how they both needed to wash their hands. But again, it was Jared, so he could get away with some things. Clearly not all things, but some things.

“I didn’t mean to freak you out,” Jared said softly, shaking Evan’s hands gently for emphasis.

“You- um… you didn’t freak me out,” Evan mumbled.

“No,” Jared shook his head. “I know that wasn’t cool. You don't have to lie to make me feel better. I know how, um, _shy_ you are.”

Something about Jared affirming how well he knew Evan, spouting off the things he knew about him, it warmed Evan’s heart a little.

“And, I know that even the coolest straight guys, like the kind that’ll make out with their gay friends and everything, probably draw the line at dicks,” Jared added with that lopsided smile of his.

Evan felt a thick lump in his throat. There was Jared calling him straight again. And there was Evan, feeling some primordial _wrongness_ in it. The combination of Evan Hansen and “straight”, made him feel… gross. But it’s what he was, as far as he could tell. The only person he had ever "loved" was Zoe Murphy. That wasn’t normal was it? Every other straight man he knew were attracted to dozens of women at any given time, always onto the next girl after the prior relationship fell apart. Or they were always looking for sex. Or at the very least they were always talking about how much they wanted to have sex, or how much they wanted to settle down with the perfect girl, get married and have kids someday.

When Evan looked into his future, he saw nothing. Who else but Zoe could he have ever envisioned having a life with? Sharing an apartment or house, having pets, maybe even kids? And he had royally fucked up with Zoe. In fact, it was almost like he doomed that relationship on purpose before it had even started.

But… he could see sharing an apartment with Jared. Coming home from a long day of work to find Jared there, presenting his terrible spaghetti. The two of them would laugh over the wacky things that had happened at their respective jobs. Another day Evan would get home first and easily upstage Jared’s cooking. Jared would call him a dork, but Evan wouldn't mind. They would take care of each other, like best friends. More than best friends: like brothers. Jared would definitely want a cat, more than one cat. Evan was allergic to cats so it'd have to be hairless of course. Evan didn’t even think he’d mind doing Jared’s laundry.

Was that love? Was that the same as what he thought he wanted with Zoe? No, that had to just be proof of how deeply and strongly he felt for Jared as his friend. It was like his little internal monologue had said: they were brothers. Sure, Evan had never found himself describing one of his relationships in such strong terms before, but that was how fully Evan, well, loved Jared. Platonically. Was that platonic?

He was so confused!

Evan wanted to pull on his hair, but his hands were still being clasped by Jared and it felt so nice he didn’t want to disturb it.

After what felt like hours of his mind racing around and around, these disparate thoughts shooting from one side of his brain to the other like a pinball machine, Evan spoke.

“What… um, what- I mean… what if I wasn’t?”

“Huh? Wasn’t what?” Jared asked absentmindedly.

“Straight. What if I wasn’t straight.”

Evan licked his lips. Then he licked them again. He couldn’t seem to keep them from drying out instantly.

Jared pulled his hands away from Evan’s like they were suddenly too hot to the touch. His mouth automatically curled up in a sneer, and his eyes narrowed.

“Don’t- don’t joke about that, dude. It’s not funny,” he said.

Evan wanted to protest, say that he was in fact being serious, but what little courage it had taken to broach the topic in the first place… that had dissipated like so much vapor in the wind.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his hands aching to reach out to Jared, to touch him, to feel grounded by Jared’s physical presence.

“It’s okay. I get it,” Jared patted Evan’s hand, and Evan felt a flood of relief when he kept it there.

“You- you do?”

“Yeah. You were surrounded by people who weren’t like you. You’re used to the whole world being like you, and you were in a, like, little pocket dimension, where it was the opposite. Remember when I invited that kid James to Seder once? And then to a couple Shabbat services? The point is, remember how he then said he wanted to be a Jew?”

“Vaguely,” Evan admitted. He didn’t really remember any James, but then Jared had a much more social adolescence than he did. For all he knew, James could be an entirely made up character, a figment of Jared’s imagination, just like the Israeli model/soldier that Jared had hooked up with at camp.

It wasn't Evan's proudest moment, but he had tried to lookup this girl, combing through the facebook page for Jared's summer camps, and there were no photos of anyone who looked like her anywhere, certainly not the obvious fake model Jared had sent him. He never told Jared that he found out the truth, but then again Jared probably forgot he even told that lie.

“Well, I told him: you just feel like the minority for once. That’s what we feel like every day. You literally don’t have to be a Jew to be friends with Jews, you just have to respect us. Feeling like the minority once doesn’t mean you have to change who you are. We don’t get to. It’s like, not _immoral_ to be a goy, and likewise, it’s not bad to be straight. You don’t have to not be straight just because all your friends aren’t,” Jared gesticulated wildly as he told his story.

Evan nodded along, paying more attention to the sweeping motions of Jared's free hand than the words he was saying.

“Of course I later learned he came to my house so much because turns out his dad was a violent alcoholic but that’s neither here nor there. I wonder what happened to him…” Jared added with a chilling lack of emotion. This James kid couldn’t have been real. Jared knew how to handle the subject of bad fathers with more tact than a disinterested shrug. Still something about Jared’s explanation didn’t add up.

“But- Jared. He could be a Jew if he really wanted. Anyone can,” Evan kicked the ground, causing pine needles to skid off in every direction.

“I know, I know! It’s not the perfect metaphor, but my point still stands! Plus like, I mean, I had sleepovers with him, and let me just say he didn’t seem like the type who’d cut part of his dick off, if you catch my drift. But anyway, like, just because you’re inundated- is that the word? God I’m going to have such a fucking hangover tomorrow- with, like, a new culture, I guess? Doesn’t mean you have to be a part of it. You’re just experiencing something new, and maybe even a little scary. So your natural instinct is to want to be a part of it. At least that’s how I see it.”

Jared patted Evan’s cheek. It was actually pretty condescending, but Evan shrugged it off. A lot of stuff Jared did, with another person, would come off as very, well, mean. But Evan knew him better. He knew the real Jared. He wasn’t so much bothered by Jared’s bitchy antics. They were what gave Jared his charm.

He supposed Jared’s spiel made sense, in a way. Jared was probably right. Evan was just feeling left out, as usual. And his stupid worthless pile of expired pudding he called a brain was so desperate to belong it was confusing fantasy from reality.

But that still begged the question, what straight guy fantasized about being gay just because all his friends were gay? Straight guys didn’t tend to want to be gay to belong. They had all of society and each other to relate to. What did _that_ mean for Evan then?

But Evan pushed that _deep_ down. He didn’t want to upset Jared again. That conversation could come at a later date. Being lectured by Jared was annoying enough when both parties were sober. Evan was too drunk to argue.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Jared cut into Evan’s thoughts with a bright smile. His other hand tried joining his first in clasping Evan's hand, but Evan pulled away.

“Oh, Jared, you still have my puke on your shoes,” Evan pointed dumbly.

“Dude, what? Ah _shit_!” Jared looked down at his boots and sure enough they were stained yellow-orange with dried vomit. Evan was really thankful he skipped dinner because seeing chunks would have probably had him dry heaving in the bushes right then and there.

Jared cursed under his breath, carefully taking his boots off and bunching them up in one hand. He held them out away from his body with a cartoonishly exaggerated face of disgust. He then glanced around with a mischievous grin, making sure Evan saw, like Evan was being let in on a funny secret. Then Jared aimed the boots at the nearest trash can, which was conveniently across the sidewalk from them.

“Kobe!” Jared shouted. He lobbed the boots at his intended target. They missed the garbage can by about 10 feet.

“Oh _fuck_! I forgot my flask was in there!” Jared ran his hands through his hair and grabbed two fistfuls.

“No wait, _fuckity fuck fuck shit fuck_! It wasn’t! I left it at Khloe’s fucking apartment didn’t I? God fucking damn it! That flask cost like 30 bucks!”

Evan watched Jared’s mild tantrum with amusement. He awkwardly extended an arm and pat Jared’s shoulder.

“There, there, Jared. I’ll get you another flask for your birthday,” Evan said softly.

“You’d do that?” Jared asked. He caught Evan’s arm in his hand and ran a thumb up and down the inside of Evan’s forearm. The touch was electrifying, not in the least because Jared’s thumb was tickling the exact place Evan broke on that fateful summer morning over a year ago.

Evan nodded with a tiny smile. He didn’t know how he’d be able to buy a flask, seeing as he was only 18, but if Jared found a way to buy one in high school, he could do it. He’d do anything to make Jared happy.

“You spoil me daddy,” Jared threw his head back and faked a moan.

“Jared that’s really weird. And you’re being too loud,” Evan’s ears felt like furnaces. He was thankful for being drunk, and the chilly wind. Jared teased him all too often for how easily he blushed.

“ _Are_ we being too loud? What time is it?” Jared asked, pulling out his phone.

“Oh my God I have like a billion notifications!” Jared proceeded to stick his tongue out and clumsily type away. The phone’s light illuminated Jared’s face in an ethereal glow, making him look much paler and thinner than he actually was. But there was something endearing about it too. No amount of bad lighting could look unflattering on Jared.

Evan fumbled in his pants pocket and pulled his phone out too. It was on low battery for some reason. It was almost 2 in the morning. He could’ve sworn it was way earlier than that. He only had one notification, from Alana of course.

_Injuries and death related to underage drinking are at epidemic rates in this country! Please drink responsibly and practice the buddy system! Share this post if you agree that we can make our campuses safer!_

She had posted it over a half hour ago. How long had Evan and Jared been standing in the bushes with their dicks out tenderly touching each other?

“It’s bedtime for me,” Evan said, pocketing his phone.

“Oh, shit yeah, it _is_ late, huh?” Jared stretched dramatically, then looked down at his feet.

“I should’ve thought this through before I yeeted, yote? Yeeted my shoes in the trash.”

“Actually you missed the garbage; you’re a litterer,” Evan pointed out. He tapped his fingers together nervously.

Jared narrowed his eyes, but didn't respond to Evan. He took a short step, complaining loudly at every pebble or needle that dug into his bare feet. He took another step, swearing constantly.

“Here,” Evan trotted in Jared’s way and bent over in front of him. He faced his palms up to the sky behind his back, twitching his fingers expectantly.

“Oh, um… bro, I usually like to go on three dates before I just, _utterly_ fuck a dude into oblivion. But we just established that you’re afflicted with incurable heterosexuality, so, sad to say…”

“Jesus Jared, just hop on my _fucking_ back,” Evan growled. Someone could spray ketchup directly onto his face and it still wouldn’t do justice to how severely he flushed at Jared’s comment.

“Oh you want to give me a piggyback ride. Yeah that’s also a logical takeaway,” Jared bit back caustic laughter. He jumped onto Evan’s back with a little grunt, his arms latching around Evan’s neck tightly.

“I like when you get all bossy,” Jared said with a perverted lilt in his voice.

“Shut _up_!”

Evan heaved and hooked his arms around the backs of Jared’s knees (or the popliteal fossae as they were known). Jared’s arms were in his face and kept smacking him in the jaw, but he managed to stabilize both of them and took slow but sure steps out of the bushes.

Jared felt really warm on his back, despite how cold his fingers felt, and Evan was afraid his hands would start sweating and Jared’s legs would slip from his grip. Knowing Jared, he’d just allow himself to hang off of Evan’s back and be dragged back to his dorm, even if he ended up strangling Evan to death in the process. 

Evan huffed, and beads of sweat started to form on his brow. He had to stop and hoist Jared back up his back as he kept slipping down. But Evan was able to maintain a brisk pace despite toting Jared's dead weight around.

“You’re stronger than you look,” Jared teased, poking Evan’s face from behind.

“Well, you’re, um, pretty light actually. So.”

Evan could feel Jared’s smile next to his ear.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Jared preened, rubbing his head against Evan’s like how his cats used to do to Evan back in middle school. Jared’s floppy bangs got in Evan’s eyes.

Evan rolled his eyes, but still felt butterflies in his stomach. He shifted Jared up his back (despite his arm's aching in protest) one last time and came to an abrupt stop in front of Jared's dorm.

“Okay Jared, we’re here. You can get off now.”

"Not until I've had at least an hour with the proper mood lighting, maybe some scented candles, oh and of course my favorite porn," Jared laughed.

"Seriously Jared. Get off of me please."

“But you’re so warm and soft, and you smell good,” Jared whined. Still, he slid off Evan’s back anyway. Not that Evan gave him much of a choice after dropping Jared’s legs and straightening his back. Thankfully Jared unhooked his arms and didn't strangle Evan.

Jared clambered up the steps of the stoop, acting like the sidewalk was burning his skin. From the way he muttered “fucking cold as shit bro” to himself, it probably was burning his skin in a way. He was shivering with his whole body, but still he waited outside the warmth of his dorm room, grinning at Evan, one side of his mouth lifting the tiniest bit up.

“Such a fucking gentleman, giving me your vest and carrying me home,” Jared mused. He was raising one of his legs like a flamingo, and then lowering down to give the other leg a turn in the air, then repeating the pattern back and forth.

“Any time,” Evan clasped his hands together and kicked at one of the steps.

He wanted to say _"I'd carry you to the ends of the earth if I had to,"_ but that was a little melodramatic for the situation.

The two of them stared at each other for several seconds. Without warning Jared swooped in, grabbed Evan's jersey, and pecked Evan on the lips. Jared's feet were hanging off the edge of the stoop, and thanks to the stoop he was about 6 inches above Evan, who had to bend his entire back and crane his neck up to receive the kiss. Jared’s other hand ever so briefly dug into Evan’s hair before Jared pulled away again.

“Well, goodnight,” Jared whispered, his cheeks ablaze. Then he turned around and entered his building’s key code. In a flash the door was closing behind him again and Jared was gone.

Evan put a hand to his lips, slightly dazed.

He didn’t remember walking back to his own dorm building, but he did remember it taking three attempts to correctly enter his passcode and scan his student id before the door would open. He vaguely remembered stumbling up the stairs to his floor instead of waiting for the elevator, because some very illogical part of his brain thought it would be slower and louder. Evan did remember fumbling with the lock on his door, missing the card reader the first time. He remembered barreling into his room, pausing just long enough to kick his vinyl boots off, and then crawl into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin and willing sleep to come.

But as spotty as his memory was, there was a commonality to them. Over every event, a reel of sorts was playing back images of Jared. His ridiculous costume, his almost obnoxious levels of confidence, sharing drinks together, dancing, kissing, arguing?

Evan felt restless, but he knew he was too exhausted to fight off sleep for much longer. One specific memory lingered in the forefront of his mind: kissing Jared. Not the full on make out session they had at Khloe’s party, but the little chaste kiss Jared had given him just a few minutes before.

He didn’t know why, but that single solitary kiss, just an innocent little kiss, a goodbye kiss, a thank you kiss… like the kisses Zoe used to give him. It felt safe, and reassuring, and right.

Warmth filled Evan’s chest the more he thought about it. Something about Jared just felt _good_. Evan sighed happily and rolled onto his side, letting sleep overtake him, dreaming of Jared. He slept better that night than he had since he first moved away from home.


End file.
